Tempest: Stronghold
by TolkienScribe
Summary: Part 2 of "Tempest At War". Thranduil finds himself allies in unexpected places. It is time to make a stronghold before the Enemy rises and the Battle of Battles begins. But there are political games to be played, and obstacles to overcome and in the end, there will be death. Rated T for war. Dagor Dagorath story. Please read and review. CHAPTER 13 HAS BEEN REPOSTED. MAJOR CHANGES.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

**Disclaimer: **Do not own.

**Rating: **T for war.

**Warning: **Kindly note that there will be political situations in this story. This, by any means, does NOT represent my views of the mentioned countries. I hold a great amount of respect for each country, since all countries have good and evil times. Also, please note that since this is a fiction story, some current modern age events have not taken place in this story. Thank you.

Welcome to the Tempest at War trilogy: Part 2 "Stronghold". :)

This is NOT an AU story. It is a futuristic story.

**IMPORTANT: **Kindly read the prequel Tempest: Modern Age before reading this story. I can guarantee you that you will be immensely confused if you read this part alone.

Also PLEASE heed the rating. This is a war. There WILL be deaths and there WILL be killings and there WILL be conspiracies and such.

HUGE thanks to all the readers out there who accept this story so whole-heartedly. :)

Also, please note that flames are NOT appreciated. If you do not wish to read, I am sure there are other stories that suit your taste.

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>PART 2<strong>

**TEMPEST: STRONGHOLD**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

_Aeglos,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

It was bitterly cold as the evening drew near. The wind played with his hair, striking against his exposed neck. Thranduil pushed up his collar, zipping on his jacket more fully. The skies were curiously clear and the waters were calm, as if Ulmo had accepted their voyage, the waves splashing against the sides of the ship as she made her path.

He turned his head towards the Elves manning the ship, all of them fully armed. They were the Teleri who followed Círdan to the Hither Shores, and manned the most secret of the ships. At the moment he wondered if Círdan too was a traitor, but his heart simply could not believe it. There had to be something else. One of the Teleri glanced at him when he felt his eyes, and his face morphed into a silent apology. Thranduil turned away, looking into the waters,

His grief had lessened from Mandos' glad tidings of Dawn reuniting with her forefathers but the guilt weighed heavily on him. The Sea called for him to set sail, but he would not do so. There were things to be done and he had a place now, here in Arda. He will not turn his back to it.

He had yet to speak to Riley, he knew. There was no way for him to ignore that fact, but at the moment he did not want to think on it. Dawn's bracelet was still in the pocket of his jacket, making its presence known to him.

He turned his attention to the Ring of Power adorning his first finger and scowled. He had changed, he knew. He had already been warned briefly by Oromë that it might happen. Rings of Power played a small role in altering the wearer's fëa, as the One Ring had done for Gollum and Frodo, as the other Rings had done for their masters. He felt it in his heart, Húro's change upon him. Rings were just not natural, Thranduil thought darkly.

It also brought another thought in his head, one that lay much more heavily on his head and his heart combined. He thought about his wife and his people, the very people that he was meant to trust. And now, he found out that they had been hiding something from him, which, in his position, may have been important for him to know. He did not doubt that in their minds they thought they were doing the best, but it does not escape the fact that he should have known regardless of how 'beneficial' it would have been if he was oblivious.

He heard light footsteps behind him and he turned his head, noting Alice standing behind him, dressed in thick clothing with her hair pulled in a ponytail.

"Do not try to use Húro." She said seriously. She was holding her gun in one hand, loosely though he did not doubt that she would be able to bring it up immediately if she had to. That was another thing, he thought with a slight frown. Alice moved with such ease and the speed at which she had turned and aimed her gun when she had declared she was taking the ship was uncanny. Such speed to surprise even an Elf spoke she was trained by Elves, for he remembered Estel moving with that speed, long ago when he first came upon Isildur's heir long ago when he visited Imladris.

"I think you deserve a traitor's death."

"Just…." She took in a deep breath. "Trust me."

Alice nodded at him and turned away, walking as if she knew he would not harm her, and she was right.

He didn't want to. But the fact that in spite of taking on threatening stances and pointing their guns at them, they had done no further moves. It was most curious. They acted as their enemies and yet they had the conscience enough not to act fully as one.

Evening drew closer, and he heard Alice give a call.

"Cut the engines!"

"What!" Jason called out. "We are in the middle of nowhere."

"Exactly," Alice said. It was evident from the way she moved and spoke that she was the leader here. It made Thranduil wonder what she had done to govern such respect from the Elves. She came to stand beside Thranduil, giving him a strange, small smile. "Not all those who wander are lost."

His brow furrowed briefly, wondering what she meant. But Alice said nothing more and she turned away, leaving him to his thoughts. He turned his attention back to the wide expanse of water in front of him. The waters were darkening in color as the sun began to set on the horizon. The skies split into wide colors of ruby red, pink, purple and sapphire, the ocean changing colors to match it. It was then he noticed a strange movement below the water.

"Jason, did you see that?" Thranduil asked, leaning over the railing. Jason shook his head and looked down with him. Dark shapes swirled below the still ship, and Aeglos rocked gently to and fro. Then they felt a jerk, not powerful but much unexpected. The waters were shifting but in a manner that Thranduil had never seen before. It was swirling about the ship, forcing it to move in one direction only. Something below the water was forcing it to move…. or some things.

He continued to look, until he could discern the watery shapes that oddly looked human, distorted by the constant changing waves. Then one of them surfaced.

It was looked like a human but he also realized it was a female. She was pale-skinned, with long, pale-colored hair that floated about her shoulders like seaweed. She wore some sea-green clothing but her eyes drew him in, sea-green in color, large and inquisitive. Then she went under and he stepped back, shaken.

"What was that?" Jason asked. He stopped and then corrected himself. "Who was she?"

"Water-sprite," Thranduil answered. "They serve Ossë in guarding the waters of Arda. I had never set my eyes upon one before now."

"Mermaids of the Sea," Jason murmured.

"Mermaids are merely a distorted version of what they are. Uinen is their Queen and they are the soldiers in the water. They guide the waves under Ossë's command."

"Where do you think they are taking us?"

"I do not know." Thranduil murmured. He could not forget the fact that Ossë was once a pawn of Melkor until Ulmo returned him to his loyalty. The darkness in Ossë caused the storms in the Sea. What was going on?

But the ride was smooth after the initial jerk in the waves, and Alice and her allies seemed completely unfazed from the appearance of the water-sprites. Whatever was happening, it was something they were familiar with. It did not seem like something to be worried about… yet.

The sun had started to set, the bottom part of it just touching the waters and casting a fiery glow over it. That was all Thranduil could amuse himself with. Húro was surprisingly calm, alert but calm. And it made him realize that whatever Alice and the others were, they were not foes.

"Thranduil," Jason tapped the King's shoulder, gaining his attention. Jason gestured at the sea, and Thranduil recognized why he was so uneasy. What was a clear sky and calm waters was beginning to shift. A mist was gathering about them, enveloping them from all sides and stealing away their vision. Thranduil was instantly on alert, not liking this at all.

"Alice, what is going on?" He asked, turning to the woman standing behind him. She was the only woman among the Elves and she stood out because of her black, fitted garbs.

"Just trust me."

"You are asking far too much." Thranduil said.

"I know." Alice said, pausing. "I know. And I will be asking even more." Catching his look, she added. "I swear to you, it will pass."

He glanced at Jason but said nothing. Already Miranda and Jimmy had been forced below deck because they had been causing trouble. Thranduil hated to admit it but he only complied because he had no wish to go below deck, where he would not know anything that is happening.

The mist had taken them from all sides, but it was beginning to part. As it did, Thranduil first made out the shapes of lights from a distance, until slowly he could see an unfamiliar land. The sun had nearly set completely, and the stars were bright above them. Thranduil looked up with longing. It had been so many years since he had set eyes on such clear skies. NYC entertained no such scenery, and even in the Laurentian Mountains, he had been unable to appreciate the full beauty of a starlit sky. And so the stars above him looked like white gems scattered in abundance on a velvet cloth of black shade, reminding him just why his Race loved the night more.

The next thing he shifted his attention to was the shore they were getting close to. He noticed that the Teleri Elves were still not manning the ship, meaning the water-sprites were leading her to harbor. For it was a harbor indeed. Painted and polished ships drifted in the waters, and there was a lively crowd over there. But what surprised him the most was the sign of the people, who were not from the Race of Men but were Elves. And they moved freely without any care as if Arda had not forgotten them. It became obvious to Thranduil that this was a land that he was not familiar to.

"What is this place?" Jason asked. Thranduil noted it was an island they were coming to. A very large island.

"They call it the Gifted Island." Alice said.

"Who do?"

"The Elves that live here," She answered. He wanted to ask why it was called so but Thranduil's question died in his throat, when he returned his attention back to the harbor. It was manned by unmistakably Teleri Elves, all of whom were dressed in light shirts and trousers, unmindful to the cold wind blowing from the Sea. The ship came closer into the harbor and Jason tapped his shoulder.

"You might want to see this."

Thranduil turned his head, looking at where Jason was gesturing, and he found a banner flying high in the air, of a six-pointed star. It was familiar, he thought distractedly.

oOo

_Gifted Island,_

_Pacific Ocean._

When they set foot on land, Thranduil looked about him. The buildings were high, with slanted roofs meant to slide the water off them when the violent sea storms struck. The roads were paved, built in a way to remove the water on its own. He noticed the lights were all modern lighting, but the architecture was Teleri in all manners. The walls were smooth, with the designs of waves and ships wherever he looked. He noticed a symbol upon the banners that accompanied the six-pointed star, of silver waves on a blue background. The people looked well-settled, completely at ease, meaning they had been living here for years. Maybe even Ages.

Arodien clutched his hand and he squeezed it in silent assurance. At odds he may be with his family and companions, he was by no means so angry as to turn them away. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her breathe a sigh of relief. Legolas though, looked wary and the father side of him regretted it. He made a silent vow to speak to him later.

"Riley would leave the ship later." Jason spoke in his ear. "I do not think you would fancy a confrontation out here in the open."

Thranduil nodded, looking at him gratefully. The Man nodded and stepped back.

"There is no escape from here." Alice called to them as she got on land. "The waters are guarded by Ossë's troops, and the mists shadow all exits from the island by the blessing of the Valar."

"Where are we?" Thranduil asked, fixing his eyes on the woman.

"It is not for me to say." She answered. "I am nothing but a messenger. I was meant to bring you all here and I did. Do not be afraid." She added. "You will remain here with good comfort. Just… trust me."

Thranduil did not want to, again. But there was a look of pleading in her eyes and there was no malice in her features. Whatever she meant, it was honest. He gripped Arodien's hand tighter in his and nodded.

"Lord Alacon is the Lord presiding over this harbor and all those who dwell in the city here. He will be your host for the night, but he will answer no questions." Thranduil's brows furrowed briefly. The name was familiar, and he remembered barely a mention of such name from King Olwë. Though it had been something about the Elf dying in the Kinslaying-

Arodien tugged on his hand, pulling him out of his thoughts as well as from his stance. He walked with them, noting that only a bare few passed them a glance but otherwise continued to about their business. It was a beautiful, wondrous meld of modern technology with their own heritage, and it was well-planned and thought out.

They were led up the steps made of stones, which led them to a larger building situated at the center of the harbor. The windows were wide, facing the sea in an effort to keep the interior aired, and decorated in the corners with sea waves beaten in silver. Alice led them to the dual doors, which when placed together held the shape of a great ship made of silver. She spoke briefly to the guards, who opened the doors in haste. As he passed them by, they bowed their heads to him, murmuring_ "Aran"_.

King… it reminded him immediately of Dawn and a feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

"Lord Alacon is not in attendance at the moment," Alice said. "But the servants will lead you to your rooms. You will be given baths to refresh yourselves and food to eat and beds to sleep, but remember what I said when I told you there is no escape from here." She paused, before speaking again. "You will have questions that need answering. Wait for tomorrow. You will likely get your explanations then." Much to his surprise, Alice bowed lightly at the waist towards him. "It is an honor to be in your company, King Thranduil." With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, speaking quickly with one of the Ellyn who was waiting for her by a side door.

They had taken a brief wash before dinner, and the Elves tending them had told them that baths would be waiting for them once they ate their fill. Dinner itself had been a silent, tense affair, and Thranduil noticed that Jimmy, Jason and Miranda were not present. When he asked after them, he was assured they were safe and well taken care of, as were Riley and his family. The heavy silence made it feel strangely empty, and confusing at the same time. Questions were burning in all of them, but none were able to voice them aloud for it was still too much for them to process. Thranduil, however, had more questions he wanted to ask than all of them. He could not help but soften a bit for Legolas and the others after a while, though he was still very much furious at the fact that they withheld information.

"Do you know anything of this?" he asked.

"Nothing, father," Legolas replied.

"Do you suspect something of this?"

"I do." Legolas answered with a slight pause.

"Wonderful," Thranduil muttered.

"Father-" But Thranduil had lost his appetite, and he excused himself from the table.

The bedrooms were fully adorned, the fires burning in the fireplaces, though the lighting was modern. Tapestries hung over the walls of soothing sunset sceneries and of ships leaving the harbor. It had been a long time since Thranduil had set foot in some place full of Elves. It was a feeling he reveled. Arodien had retired to bed with a single word, and he had not been too keen to speak just yet though he knew he would have to address the subject sooner or later. Sooner, would be better, he knew. But for now, he stood at the balcony and he gazed outside. He heard soft singing in Quenya below him, and he looked down, noticing Ellyn and Ellyth sitting there with flutes and harps, singing softly as the night drew on. It was a comforting scene, which almost but not completely made him forget his unsolved troubles and the newness of the place. He knew he could not find any sleep, so he stood there and watched, sometimes going inside and sitting by the fire when his legs and back tired before returning once again to the balcony. Arodien slept fitfully on their bed, tossing and turning, glancing at him every so often before sighing and shifting again.

Just a few hours before dawn, the singing crowd broke apart and departed. But when dawn broke, the harbor was awakening and he heard merry songs wafting in the air as the Elves went about their business. It reminded him of Aman, but here in Arda, it was almost so strange to look upon. Questions began to churn inside him again. And he watched some of the water-sprites approach the harbors. A few playfully came up, tugging on the legs of unsuspecting Elves and making them fall into the water with a cry of surprise. Laughter filled with the air, before the giggling nymphs disappeared into below the sea surface again.

He started when he felt two arms come across him.

"Are you much angry?" Arodien asked softly in his ear.

"No." he answered truthfully. "But I am not happy at the moment."

"I am sorry."

"I know."

"You will come around?"

"Have I not always?"

He turned slightly to catch a small smile on her face as she pulled away.

Breakfast was a much lighter affair than dinner was, in Thranduil's opinion. The harbor did not seem as intimidating as it had done in the night. The cushions they were sitting on were light blue in color with silver tassels and a low table was in between them as they sat on the ground and shared the food from mutual plates in Teleri fashion. He noticed Teleri girls walking about in light dresses, heedless to the cold and chattering away in Quenya. They came to help if they needed any but usually left them be. The guards were not overly vigilant in their company, making Thranduil realize even more that they were not kept here as captives.

So why the abruptness in taking over the ship?

His question was later silently answered after they left the table with much more lighter conversations that Thranduil thought he could muster. They had just gotten up, washed their hands were idly standing in the openly aired room where they had eaten when Thranduil noticed an Elf standing at the doorway.

The Elf in front of him nearly made him choke on air, and it had taken him a great deal of strength and willpower to summon up to hide most of his surprise and suppress the rest.

He was handsome enough, Thranduil deduced. He was tall, broad-shouldered and muscular. His skin was pale, so pale in fact that the Elven glow was bright in him. His hair was pale gold, slightly curled at the tips and bound back with a golden clip, almost setting off a pleasing albino effect, had it not for his grey eyes. The sharp lines of his face spoke Noldorin descent and his clothing, although old-fashioned, spoke nobility and grace. He was dressed in golden and white-colored clothing of shirt, tunic and trousers, with beige boots that reached his knees.

What was remarkable though, was the expression the Elf wore. He looked distinctively uncomfortable, a bit apprehensive, and very much nervous with a small uncertain smile on his lips. The overall look would have made Thranduil laugh had it not been for the fact that he knew very well who this Elf was, and the memories he brought back to him.

"Thranduil Oropherion," the Elf greeted, shifting slightly on his feet as if he had the urge to flee, his hands seeming so empty, devoid of the sword he was obviously far too familiar with.

"Celegorm Fëanorion," Thranduil answered. He was happy to say his voice held no feeling, except perhaps that it was a bit clipped around the edges. "This is a surprise."

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

To the guest who asked. Seriously... I really do think I am spoiling you guys. :P

I am excited to know what you think! So leave me a review?

**List of Canons And Concepts:**

**Water-sprites: **These are actually canon. They are considered to be troops that govern the waves of Arda, and are defined to be smooth and pale-skinned with flowing pale hair the color of sun and singing wild songs. They have their own language. Another name which Tolkien defined as 'distorted' was mermaids. Uinen, Osse's wife, is their Queen and they serve Osse. I would regard them as inquisitive, wild but with a playful streak to match the varying states of the Sea.

**Celegorm: **Yeah, yeah, I know about the whole 'Fair' not necessarily being used for describing hair color. But therein lies my own argument. Why call him only fair when all the others were black-haired and fair of face as well? Something had to be different. I know people will think it unlikely given my own description of him, but my reasons are that the House of Finwe was rather known to be very 'deviant'. You have Maedhros who is tall, Mahtan who is burly with an early beard which he got in his youth. You have Feanor who was the Spirit of Fire. You have Fingon called the Valiant. Each one of them had this character or this personality to them. It made them stand apart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

If you manage to stick with me to the end, I can promise you that it will be worth it. :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

_Doriath,_

_First Age._

The two Elves leading their escort would have been mistaken for not being related at all, had it not been for the fact that the two Elves stayed together and spoke quietly with an air and manner that showed them as nothing but related.

Thranduil dropped to the ground, landing cleanly on his feet.

"_Well-met_," Thranduil greeted them. They had to rein in their horses, him having surprised them. _"You have returned earlier than I had expected. I trust your stay was uneventful."_

The two Elves looked down at him with open disdain.

"_Our early return will have to do with your king, Sindel,"_ the fairer one sneered at him. Thranduil's forehead furrowed briefly. He knew full well what his kind was called by the Noldor. They called them 'Sindar' or 'Grey Elves'. The lesser known word for them was Sindeldi. Neither of them names held any mockery but it was evident from the Elf's tone that it was meant to be insulting.

"_Surely, the king had good reason for whatever judgment he passed."_ Thranduil said, attempting to soothe over any ruffled feathers.

"_He does not listen to a voice of reason,"_ the darker one said. Thranduil turned his eyes towards him. Their names Thranduil could not remember, too strange for his tongue to grasp and his mind to hold. But he picked the same disgust in his voice while addressing him as his brother had. He spread his arms out in consolation.

"_Why do you look down on me so?"_ Thranduil questioned. "_We are the Edhil. We call ourselves the Edhil. And you and your kin and kith are Edhil like us."_

But the two Elves scoffed at him and nudged their horses.

"_You know nothing, Grey Elf."_

"_Mind that pride," _Thranduil called after the fairer one, though in his heart he was addressing all of them._ "It will lead to your own ruin, ere the world is broken."_

Thranduil stared after them, troubled. He would have stayed there had he not heard the distinctive sound of a twig cracking. He whirled around, pulling out his bow and placing his arrow upon the bowstring.

"You move fast, for one so young." The newcomer spoke, half-amused.

"You will find me no youngling." Thranduil answered._ "You are no dweller of this forest. How come you here and what is your purpose?"_

The newcomer tilted his head to a side. He was taller than most Elves, Thranduil noticed, with hair dark as night and his eyes the color of forest green. He wore a hunter's garb, his bow and quiver resting upon his back and his slim knife in its sheath, hanging from his belt.

"_You are observant, Oropherion," _the newcomer said. _"I am not any dweller of the forest and yet all trees of all forests know me. You will know me as Oromë."_

"_Forester," _Thranduil murmured, carefully lowering his bow and taking off his arrow from it.

"_Aye," _Oromë watch the Elf return his weapon back in its place. _"You seem troubled."_

"_That was not natural." _Thranduil jutted his chin towards the path the Fëanorionath had taken. _"They were not natural." _He had not missed the burning in their eyes, the strangeness in their smiles as if they had awoken something that had best been asleep. He made a silent note to speak to his father when he returned to the city, and find out what had happened. For these Elves seemed… fey.

"_They are not." _Oromë agreed. _"And it grieves me to see them thus. They were not like this, you know. Forgive them, for they had stepped into something they did not fully comprehend when they did."_

"_You were here to see them?"_

"_Aye, I was." _Oromë answered. _"But I am now no more. Farewell, Oropherion." _Oromë walked away for a few paces before stopping.

"_Your paths will cross once again, Oropherion,"_ Oromë said, turning to him. "_For I do not believe you are quite done with one another."_

"_I will not be too keen to meet them if they were to hold their head high in pride the next time we do."_

oOo

_Gifted Island,_

_Modern Age,_

But Celegorm did not hold up his head high with pride. He was still standing tall, with shoulders back and his posture straight but there was something different about him.

"I know you are not happy to see me." Celegorm began.

"I would never have guessed." Thranduil spoke, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"And I know neither I nor my people are forgiven for our crimes," Celegorm continued as if Thranduil had not spoken. "But please," Celegorm added. "Let me just… let me just show you."

His grey eyes, the feature of a pure Noldo still burned from the fire he inherited from his father. But he seemed a bit different, as if he were no longer fey. His eyes were honest, and Thranduil sensed no arrogance. What had happened in their time here? Or were they always liked this? These were questions that needed answering.

"Your brother's men burned down the house my mother was in… our house." Thranduil tilted his head to one side. "Maedhros' soldiers had thrown torches to it. They had not let her out and left us to watch her burn to death."

Celegorm's lips twisted, but whether out of disgust or guilt, Thranduil did not know.

"I am sorry for what happened." He said after a long pause. He stopped before adding. "Those times… were different." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I know you are not keen of becoming allies-"

"That is an understatement."

"-but things have changed. We have changed. Please. We are as much hope for one another as we are for everyone else. We will only be able to work if we stay together." Celegorm hesitated. "I am not asking to accept us immediately."

"We? Us?"

Celegorm looked suitably uncomfortable, to the point that Thranduil considered the thought of feeling sorry for him. But he only considered it for a moment.

"If you want answers, then come with me. Some things are better to be shown. It is much easier to explain that way. I promise you there is no harm for any of you here." Thranduil remained where he was.

"Come with me into the city." Celegorm repeated as if in persuasion, sweeping his hand towards the harbor. Thranduil, however, did not respond immediately. Understanding his reasons, Celegorm sighed. "I will not back out of my word." The son of Fëanor said. "No harm shall come on you or your people in your absence. I am not separating you in the attempt to end your life or to take Húro from you." At Thranduil's raised eyebrow, Celegorm gave a vent of frustration. "Of course I know about the Ring, my brother helped my nephew in making it!"

Thranduil raised his eyebrow further. But to his silent surprise, Celegorm flushed.

"And there I go and put my foot in my mouth as the Hobbits would say."

"Hobbits?" Legolas asked.

"You are not helping." Celegorm growled.

"You know each other?" Thranduil asked, noting the exchange.

"We… heard of each other."

Thranduil scowled. Legolas flinched.

"It was a long time ago." Legolas mumbled.

"I intend to hear this 'long time ago'." Thranduil said to his son, who nodded wordlessly, becoming very meek in front of his father.

"But for now, let us stick to the present." Celegorm gestured towards the open door. "Shall we?"

Thranduil looked at him for a long while before finally nodding at length.

"How do you intend to take us through the city?"

"I will show you."

Celegorm led him through one of the side doors which opened into a small, homely yard. Thranduil spotted a vegetable patch at one side, shaded to keep it safe. He followed Celegorm across the yard until they came upon a building. Celegorm opened the door and ushered Thranduil inside.

The fresh scent of hay hit him first, with the sounds of horses breathing evenly. Thranduil blinked before walking forward as if his feet have a mind of their own until he came to one closest to the stable door. It was mare, with soft brown eyes. She was young, he could tell and sprightly as she curiously regarded him. Thranduil murmured softly to her in Sindarin, reaching forward with a hand for her to sniff. She accepted him quickly, letting him pat the length of her neck.

"How long has it been since you were this close to horses?"

"The last was in Aman." Thranduil answered.

"She is Calarocco, my mare for some pleasurable riding through the city. You might appreciate this one." Celegorm said, gesturing at one horse, a black stallion with a white star on his forehead, who eyed them with some disdain. "This is Haldarocco. He is a bit cautious, and very much distrustful for strangers," Thranduil glanced at Celegorm warily. Sure enough, there was a bare twinkle in Celegorm's eyes, speaking of an undercurrent jibe hidden in his words.

"Well, he obviously has a good reason." Thranduil sniped back, making Celegorm's lips twitch upwards but the latter Elf said nothing. "Is it customary to give bad-tempered horses to new guests?"

"Only to the ones I think would give me trouble. Unlike Caranthir, I try to address the topic directly."

This time Thranduil's lips twitched upwards for a moment.

The city was positively thriving. It was built close to the harbor, with wide streets meant to take the bulk of the people. He saw the Ellyth dressed in long dresses instead of wearing the customary jeans or pants with shirts as with women. The Ellyn were dressed in clothing that only transported Thranduil back in his memories, and they were clad in trousers with shirts, tunics and he spotted cloaks amongst quite a few. He saw to his surprise, while the utensils used were modern, no one was using any form of vehicles.

"There are no cars and such around here." Thranduil noted aloud.

"My brother had forbidden their usage. He allows the uses of trucks and such to transport goods from one city to another and other forms of heavy vehicles, but the rest only for the name of luxury are not allowed. We live here; it would not do to treat it poorly."

"Your brother?"

"My eldest… Maedhros."

"Why is it called Gifted Island?" Thranduil spoke, breaking the tense silence between them.

"Gifted Island?" Celegorm asked in surprise. Then his look cleared. "Ah, I see you have been talking with Alice. Tol Antanë is its name in Quenya. The Valar had given it as a gift to us, knowing that we will not be accepted elsewhere."

"Can't imagine why," Thranduil murmured, loud enough for Celegorm to hear. If the Fëanorion had, he did not say anything.

"This Lord Alacon, who is he?"

"That is an alias my brother likes to use," Celegorm said. "Caranthir, I mean. Oh and I assure you the real Lord Alacon does exist though he is known by his epessë, Cestaro now. Caranthir is a bit of a recluse. He prefers not greeting guests who… might give him trouble."

"Did you have guests that would give him trouble?"

"Sometimes, but that would be telling."

"I cannot help but think why the Valar would so easily let the Kinslayers be reborn." Thranduil said. "And why it had escaped them to mention it."

"Maybe they wanted us to live in peace as much as they wanted to live themselves in peace."

"That does not excuse your crimes or that of your people or of your house in any way."

"Thranduil Oropherion-"

"King."

"I see no crown and what land you chose for your kingdom is not your own!" Celegorm snapped, his face darkening in the brief flash of temper. There it was, Thranduil thought inwardly, Celegorm's quick temper. Just as soon as it appeared, it vanished and Celegorm sighed.

"I know what you are doing. You are trying to convince yourself and prove that we are not worthy to be reborn. But what is done is done and there are things to be done and it will be not fulfilled until we work together. I do hope you can make your peace with it."

"Your men dragged two children of Thingol's house, my distant kin into the forest of Doriath and left them there to starve and die in the cold." Thranduil spoke, bringing his stallion to a complete stop. Celegorm stopped his mare as well.

"I know what I have done in my past life." Celegorm's voice was quiet, but Thranduil could hear him enunciate every word clearly. "I am guilty for many things and among them conceit, but I never raised my sword or ordered anyone under my command to harm a child. What my servants did happened after my death and certainly not on my orders. The twins are mourned for by me as much as you do for them."

"I find it hard to believe."

"I know."

"You helped me back in NYC, in closing down the case."

"I did."

"And Dave?"

"He spoke to Alice who spoke to me. I sent some of my Hunters to Ukraine who helped Dave escape."

"And you left three Elves under my command to die without some external help."

"The man who picked them up in his truck was a man who owed me for helping him."

Thranduil stared at Celegorm for a long time before murmuring a soft word to his horse and urging it back into a walk. Celegorm followed him.

"Why did you help me?"

"Shouldn't I?"

"You and your brothers destroyed my birth city and killed my kith and kin. It goes for saying something that you are clashing your morals and priorities."

"The business during the retaking of Silmarils-"

"Call it rather the War of Silmarils-"

Celegorm sighed.

"The entire business was twisted." Celegorm said. "We were under an oath sworn in the moment of emotion and madness. We did not fully comprehend what we had done and there is no way for me to excuse it. And there is no way for my brothers to excuse it."

"You will forgive me if I do not wish to welcome you with open arms." Thranduil said, turning his head away from the son of Fëanor.

"I never did."

"The way we were brought here by Alice and the other Elves did not improve matters."

"I know. I told Alice 'gently' but the meaning is sometimes lost on her. she does what she has to and she does not regret it. That is entirely due to her personality."

"You trained her," Thranduil said, reaching the conclusion suddenly.

"Yes, after an unfortunate accident when she tried to pick my pockets once in Britain and ended up with more than she could chew when she did not satisfy her gang. She was twelve at the time. I brought her here and I trained her."

"And the laptop?"

"Legolas and I met briefly while they were on the run, in one of the enemy hideouts which incidentally both he and I reached because of Oromë's schemes." Celegorm said. "We spoke little and I handed him the laptop, trusting it would serve him more use than it would do to me." Celegorm paused, glancing at Thranduil's face that changed to show to his displeasure.

"Your son loves you dearly." Celegorm spoke. "I had seen it in his eyes his fear that he may reach you too late. Do not be too hard on him. I spoke at length that I would prefer you do not know yet but he was free to make the choice, and he chose not to tell you. To be honest, I do not know whether to find the decision pleasing or otherwise."

"Hiding Kinslayers' rebirth is not something I would encourage in my son."

"And then people ask me why I was hesitating in meeting you." Celegorm said with a strange smile before turning away his head. He smirked then laughed.

"They say the past catches up on you, and I believe it now that I am here and you are as well."

"Careful; others might follow." Thranduil warned. Celegorm sobered.

"Yes," he said quietly. "Yes, you are right." He fell silent for a long while before shaking his head as if to rouse himself from his thoughts.

"So tell me, what do you think of this city?"

"These are Teleri Elves here," Thranduil spoke at length. "Not the Noldor."

"Yes," Celegorm agreed. "These are mostly the Elves who were killed in the First Kinslaying, as well as those who were lost at sea." Thranduil raised his eyebrows at that.

"First Kinslaying? Rebirth for them must have been interesting."

"As it was for us," Celegorm said, shaking his head. "It had not been the most warming meetings we have had."

"Then why did the Valar ask it from you?"

"They said we needed to learn to work together, so that when the time came we knew to trust each other. You will find in the traitors, the Teleri would be the least. Their natures would not allow it, their hearts as wild as the sea and just as difficult to tame. Winning their trust had not been easy and making friends with them even harder."

Thranduil realized that while Celegorm was speaking, the Fëanorion managed to subtly maneuver their horses back towards the palace.

"You will find it hard to win mine and also of the Sindar."

"And yet here we are speaking to one another." Celegorm returned. Thranduil could not hold back a smirk. Celegorm definitely kept his wits about him.

The rest of their ride, though, was quiet and they shared only a brief talk when they left their horses under the care of grooms and entered the palace. But here Celegorm seemed to be at a loss of words and stirred finally when the silence had stretched uncomfortably thin.

"Go. Rest; we will speak later," Celegorm said.

"If later even does arrive." Thranduil answered. Celegorm smiled and said nothing.

When Thranduil left, Celegorm sighed and tilted back, sinking into a nearby chair with relief.

"So, how did it go?" He heard Alice drawl as she entered the room.

"I would rather face an army of orcs next time." Celegorm muttered.

"It could not be that bad."

"… It could."

"Well, you are alive. That has to count for something."

"Oh, and he is absolutely going to love working with us."

"At least he wasn't Luthien."

"That does not help." Celegorm retorted. "And next time we do this, Maedhros is handling it."

oOo

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean._

But 'rest' would not come to him that day.

Fion waylaid him, grabbing him by the elbow.

"Now is not the best time, Fion." But his friend scowled at him.

"I know you are throwing a temper tantrum about what we did," Thranduil bristled at that, but Fion continued, "but that does not mean you are allowed to shy away from your responsibilities."

"Let go of my arm."

The two Ellyn scowled at one another but Fion let him go.

"You have been ignoring Riley ever since you came here."

"Fion-"

"His wife and sons is here, the girl's own mother! You could at least show some form of respect by showing them your face."

"Fion-"

"You are thinking of only how you feel and how you will come out of it with no thought of how they are feeling in place that isn't theirs, with people they hardly know and are far too unearthly to be called human! Their daughter is missing, or at least that is what they know and you are supposed to be missing or dead!"

Thranduil sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, placing the other fist on his hip. "I do not really know what to do with them."

"Stop being a coward."

"Mind who you are calling a coward."

"I say it like I see it." Fion retorted.

"Fine. I will go."

"Now."

Thranduil gave him the most withering look he could muster but Fion was unaffected. He grabbed Thranduil's arm and proceeded to escort him. Thranduil was led to the corridor leading to where Riley and his family were staying. He regarded it with slight anticipation and did not move forward until Fion gave him a light push.

"Better you do it before you lose all your courage." Fion said dryly. "You look just as frightened as that son of Fëanor."

"There is a huge difference between me and him."

Fion felt the strong urge to point out that for an Elf who gave advice to look over his grudges; he was holding a few as well but wisely kept his silence.

"I will see you later." Fion said instead, turning around and retracing his steps. Thranduil watched him leave before breathing in and taking the first step forward. He glanced at a mirror he was passing by and stopped for a moment. His hair had grown long, going well past his shoulders, freely flowing and of a fair golden color. He raised his hands and pushed his hair back, exposing his pointed ears, and noted, whether in chagrin or in nostalgia that coupled with his garments in Teleri custom, he looked every inch a king except for having a crown resting on his head. He did not think this sort of appearance was at all appropriate for the upcoming confrontation.

"This is not going to end well." Thranduil muttered to himself, turning away from the mirror and walking the rest of the corridor's length till he reached the door he was half-hoping (ridiculously so) not to reach.

Taking a deep breath, preparing for the onslaught to come, he raised his hand and knocked.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Leave me a review?

**List of OCs:**

Tol Antane: It is a Quenya term I made for the island. Tol means Island and Antane means gifted. If the translation is wrong, please make me aware of it.

**List of Canons:**

**Concept of Feanorianath:**

It is extremely irritating, for me at least, to write the sons of Feanor as if they were some demented lot before the Oath as well as after. The entire Silamrillion was a mad business. Also, Tolkien said that they became fey _after_ they took the Oath. Not before. So their personalities before and after the Oath probably did not match. At least that is the concept I am using. Also, keep in mind that centuries upon centuries, or make that Ages upon Ages have passed. So the idea is also to pursue the change in personalities due to experience, but not so much as to destroy their nature altogether.

**Sindeldi, Sindar and Edhil:**

The terms Sindar and Sindeldi are not Sindarin but Quenya, in which Sindar is a more common term. Edhil was the word that the Sindar used for themselves, a simple term which meant 'Elves'. Thranduil is pointing out that he and the Noldor are what they are; 'Elves'.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean._

He was looking down, at the stream of light coming from the gap between the door and the floor, watching it break as a shadow approached. The door creaked as it opened and Thranduil closed his eyes briefly before raising his head. Cassie stood at the doorway, her shoulder-length hair bound in a silver clip, and dressed in gray-white gown which probably was a change from her usual jeans and shirt. Her blue eyes instantly reminded Dawn from the shape and the color of it. But her eyes looked tired and her face was pale with dark circles underneath her eyes. He instantly regretted staying away, unable to imagine the extent of sorrow the couple with their sons had to face. But in an instant, her face morphed into a look of surprise.

"Lee?" She asked, and he flinched a little at the name. How he had changed!

"Cassie," he answered. With a sob, she threw her arms around his neck, startling him.

"You are alright!" She cried. "Wait, were you captured as well? How come you are here?" She pulled back a little and studied his form, noting the fineness of the garments he was wearing, garments that explained quite well that he was no captive. "Lee, so much has happened-"

"I know." He said. His arms had been dangling loosely but Cassie did not notice. "I know, Cassie. I heard."

Their exchange was on a normal tone, which brought out Riley from another room. He was dressed in a darker set of trousers and shirt of grey and blue, and he frowned when he saw 'Lee'. Thranduil grimaced inwardly. His friend looked like he was in the mood to kill.

"You."

"Riley," he returned. Riley continued to stare at him, and then gestured slightly with a spread of his arms.

"What is this?" Riley's voice was deathly quiet, and he kept it low. He made a questioning hum from the back of his throat when Thranduil did not answer. "You disappear without a single word after you are seemingly happy when your family appeared out nowhere, and you give this resignation to Shaw."

"Riley-"

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!" Riley bellowed. Thranduil fell silent. Riley rubbed a hand over his mouth. "Who are you, eh?" Riley asked. "I know your documents were a fraud. Lee Kraft doesn't exist. So who are you?" Before Thranduil had any chance to open his mouth and explain, Riley gave a harsh laugh and turned his head away before looking at him in the eye. "You know, I was able to observe some of the people who came and went around us. They all had your ears." The side of Riley's face twitched. "I thought it was some weird coincidence, but now you show up. You know, you are not normal." Riley shook a finger at Thranduil. "You are not normal at all. You were supposed to die so many times and you took risks, risks that should have ended with broken bones and bullet wounds but you always managed to come out of it alive. You are not human." He stressed on every word of the last sentence.

"You are right. I am not." It was a relief to say it, after hiding it for so many years. He sometimes thought he would go mad by not admitting it. Riley blinked.

"You are not?"

"I am not." Thranduil said.

"So what are you, eh? Some alien, some form of life form meant to take over the world-"

"Nothing of the sort," Thranduil said, taking in a deep breath. This was harder as he had thought, and even harder than he imagined. His voice was failing him. "I have lived longer than you, and I am older, much older than you think. I was full grown before the Race of Men was even awake-"Never had Thranduil felt so old, so weary but then Riley laughed in disbelief, stopping him midsentence.

"Do you hear yourself?" Riley said, chuckling. "Oh, this is rich. This is very rich."

"How do I prove it to you?" Thranduil questioned. "Nine years," Thranduil said, spreading his arms wide in a gesture of helplessness. "Nearly a decade. That is how long you have spent your time with me. Have you never noticed that I did not age?"

"Look," Riley said, gesturing his hands. "I do not know where you hit your head but I am looking for some guy named Thranduil because some woman said he would explain everything to me-"

"I am Thranduil." He interrupted quietly. Riley fell silent, but he could see in his eyes that the Man was sizing him up, looking at him in a different light. "I know about Dawn." He pulled out Dawn's bead bracelet from his pocket. He saw Riley's throat flex as he swallowed, eyes fixing upon the bright beads in a string.

"Where'd you get that?" Riley asked.

"She was captured." Thranduil said. "I went after the people who kidnapped her, but it was too late." Cassie, who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes, now gave a loud gasp and stumbled back into a chair. He glanced at her to find tears dripping down from her open eyes.

"You lie."

"I do not." Thranduil said. He felt sour at the irony that here he was telling the truth when all this time, he lied about his identity. Riley stared down at the bead bracelet lying flat on Thranduil's wide palm before moving his hand forward and snatching it from him. When Riley spoke, his voice was harsh as he uttered two words.

"Get out," Riley said. Thranduil clenched his teeth but nodded silently. He realized he had been standing just inside the door the whole time, never being invited further than that. He grimaced when he heard Cassie's sobs.

"I am sorry."

"I said GET OUT!"

Thranduil gave an inward sigh, noticing two identical pairs of frightened eyes peeping from the gap of a door leading to another room. He looked at them in a wordless apology before leaving, closing the door shut. Just as soon as he did, he heard a vase crash against the door he had just pulled shut, and Cassie's sobs grew louder.

His mind and heart heavy, and his thoughts churning, he paid no attention as to where he was until he finally raised his eyes and found himself in one of the side gardens of the palace. Incidentally, he was not alone. He found Legolas sitting in a pavilion, hands resting in his lap and deep in thought.

"Kill two birds with one stone," Thranduil muttered to himself. He straightened to his full height and then moved on to the pavilion. Legolas was too deep in thought to pay him much attention until it was too late for him to flee. When his son finally did look up, Thranduil noticed the fleeting expressions of surprise and wariness on it.

"Have I ever raised my voice at you?" Thranduil asked, arching a brow in answer to his son's expressions.

"No," Legolas admitted, shifting to the side to give Thranduil some place to sit.

"Then why are you so afraid?"

"This is a particularly strange position for us to be in. I do not know what your reaction will be."

Thranduil nodded silently in agreement.

"Yes, there is that."

"You are not happy."

"No, I am not." Thranduil looked at his son. "You said you heard of him."

"The twins explained that Elrond once met Celegorm in Minas Tirith, on the evening of Aragorn and Arwen's wedding feast." Legolas said. "Forgive me… I, ah, thought it best to keep it secret. I did not think our people would react to the news kindly."

"And you met him before you came to me."

"Before we even entered France, yes," Legolas answered.

"When were you planning to tell me?"

Legolas grimaced.

"There wasn't really a way to tell you." He spoke quietly, as if afraid of censure. Thranduil sighed and placed his arm around his son's shoulders.

"What is done is done." Thranduil spoke. "We should not linger on the past." Legolas relaxed into his embrace, forgiven. Thranduil knew he would forgive the others just as soon. Nevertheless, he would have to address the matter of withholding information from here with a severe reprimand.

"So you will work with them?" Legolas asked. Thranduil scowled, realizing his own words were caught against him.

"You do not know what they were like."

"People change."

"They killed our kind. Traitors and war-bringers were some of the names given to them."

"Did you look into his eyes?"

"I did."

"And?"

"He is different."

"And is that not good?"

"I do not know."

Thranduil shook his head.

"I find it hard to trust them." Thranduil said. Too well did he remember the shouts in the middle of the winter night when the Noldor had come, the screams of frightened Ellyth and children, and the smoke of fire rising in the air. "They are a force to be reckoned with. And I know full well that they were a kind to wake you with a knife between your ribs."

oOo

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean._

He sought out Jimmy, Jason and Miranda, whom he later found in a wing consisting of smaller rooms.

"Where were all of you?"

"In the prison," Jimmy admitted. "Miranda gave them trouble when we left the ship."

"How?"

"I kicked one of the Elves between the legs." Miranda answered. Thranduil stared at her before giving a laugh at the mental image formed in his head off a furious silver-blonde hair kicking an unsuspecting faceless Elf in such a place.

"You didn't."

"I did."

"What happened then?"

"What did you think?" Jason grumbled. He did not look too happy at the memory. "She was order off to the prison. Jimmy and I fought and we all ended up in the prison."

"Aw, I didn't think you would come to help, big brother." She threw an arm around Jason's neck, moving up her face to give him a kiss on the cheek. Jason struggled against her, warding her off by an arm. "Mind you," Miranda added as she let Jason go, suddenly grinning. "We were better off than that unfortunate Elf. The cells were individual but comfortable and clean. I think they meant to teach us a lesson before setting us up over here."

"Did you learn it?"

"No."

"Good," Thranduil said laughing. "I like it that way."

"Do I have the permission to do it to you whenever you get annoying?" Miranda asked cheekily.

"No!"

After they were done laughing, Thranduil felt considerably better.

"So what now?"

"I have no idea." Jason said. "I am thrown well out of my comfort zone."

"I think this is your area to function." Jimmy told Thranduil. "You are our leader here."

"That is equivalent of saying 'all of this rests on your shoulders'."

"I kind of was."

"Thank you for the lack of putting pressure on me." Thranduil answered, voice dripping in sarcasm. A knock sounded on the door and it turned out to be a page who explained Lord Celegorm was looking for Lord Thranduil.

"Go." Miranda said. "We will bash the party once you had enough time to have some happy reunion." Thranduil made a face at her.

It was near evening when Thranduil found himself lingering at one of the balconies when he spotted a particular Elf walking amidst a few Elves, chatting with them briskly. Caranthir, feeling someone's eyes on him, instinctively looked up and the pair made eye contact. The Noldo flushed before excusing himself and entering the building quickly.

"I saw your brother," Thranduil said in a manner of greeting when he entered the room Celegorm was waiting for him in. Alice stood behind where Celegorm was seated, garbed in green and gold combat suit. "He saw me as well."

"Yes, he told me." Celegorm looked amused. "He was under the impression that you were escorted out of the harbor. He has left again. Do not expect him to be back."

"Does he realize running away from the past would do him no good?"

"He said he would worry about the matter later," Celegorm's face darkened, "though he insists he had not done as many crimes as us."

"How are we supposed to establish alliance with him if he refuses to show his face?" Thranduil asked.

"Caranthir has changed." Celegorm said after a brief pause. "You think of my temper, but Caranthir has reined in his temper in the most. He stays by the Sea in an effort to remain reclusive. He keeps silence to keep himself from letting his temper show. He fears he would do something he would regret and it would harm everyone around him. Besides," Celegorm seemed to make an attempt to speak lightly, though Thranduil could see his heart was not it. "Accusatory glances are very hard to get used to and ignore."

They shifted to lighter topics, and they spoke on other matters until Thranduil brought up a matter of Kate. By this time, Jason and Miranda joined them, Jimmy having taken off to speak to Fion and the others.

"So this is the descendant of Aragorn." Alice murmured, looking down at Kate's picture on a tablet.

"If you knew then why did you not help her family?" Thranduil asked.

"We are not allowed." Celegorm answered, resting his chin over his arms over a table. "None of us are. We can watch over them, but if we are to help, we need the Valar's permission first. We would not have helped you if we had not had their permission."

"She might be the descendant of Aragorn," Alice said. "But that amounts to nothing when she is being trained. Learn to live in rags before coming to riches, I would say."

"No riches await us when the Battle of Battles begins," Celegorm answered. "There is no glory in her path, because if we fail then no one will be there to remember her. just make sure she learns to survive." With that he turned to Thranduil, "I have something for you," Celegorm said, looking wary. "It is from the Enemy," he placed a long thin box upon the table. It was black in color, glossy in appearance. He removed lid and Thranduil looked down to see inside.

The spear was evident in the light of the room, meant to be ornamental but not practical for throwing. The shaft of the spear was painted black and varnished, with the spear head polished and gleaming. Around the shaft was a thick white ribbon, the end of which was embroidered with a black sable. He spotted a card inside the box on which was return 'You should have killed me but now it is too late. Wolf'.

"That Man is sick." Miranda said in disgust.

"I do not think this will be the last we see of him." Thranduil said, lowering the spear in the box.

"What do you want to do with it?"

"I think I will keep it."

"Keep it!"

"Indeed," Thranduil said. "Who knows? It might be of some use one day." But Thranduil did not explain himself further when they asked.

That night, he stood at the balcony, his fingers tracing the Ring of Power adorning his finger of his left hand. He felt gentle weight resting on his shoulder blade.

"Your thoughts are uneasy." Arodien spoke, her voice vibrating against his back. "I felt it through our bond."

"I am sorry. You should not concern yourself with it."

"You are my husband. Your concerns are mine as well."

"Riley hates me."

"Did you expect anything else?"

"No."

"A loss is dearly felt by those who loved the deceased." Arodien said. "It is what gives us a spirit."

Thranduil leaned back in her embrace.

"Legolas seemed happier. Your reconciliation did him good. Your people hope to get the same from you."

"I will address it in time."

"You are still troubled."

"You should not concern yourself with it."

Arodien went still against him before silently pulling away, but Thranduil stopped her retreat.

"Stay," Thranduil commanded before softening. "Sing for me, so that I can forget my worries for a night."

_Two Queens standing side by side with babes in their arms…_

oOo

_Valmar,_

_Aman._

A year had passed and the situation was worsening.

"_Curufin would have to show his face eventually," _Tulkas spoke, lowering himself to a seat beside him. _"The others have done so already."_

"_I know." _Oromë said, sighing. Weapons were now a constant company, and music and song was becoming scarce. Shadows in the city were no longer to be trusted as Wargs and Trolls entered Aman. The traitors among the Elves and Maia had showed themselves over the months, joining together and escaping to join the Enemy. _"I do not think Thranduil would take it well."_

"_He did not, from what Manwë heard from his birds. But you and I both know that Thranduil has grown wise over the years, and he thinks with his head. He will push pass his own pride and grudges eventually."_

"_I hope so." _Oromë murmured. They fell silent.

"_Can you feel it?"_

"_The shift in the air? Aye, I can feel it."_

"_It is in the earth."_

"_It is in the water."_

Oromë breathed in deeply and closed his eyes, basking in the moonlight.

"_Oromë, look."_

Oromë opened his eyes and looked down, seeing a dark figure wearing a large cloak come up the numerous slim steps in haste.

"_That is Mandos."_

Mandos was not alone, for a slimmer figure followed him, uncloaked and without a hood, whom they quickly recognized as Lórien.

"_Something grave must have happened to warrant such haste in Mandos." _Tulkas said, rising from his chair. _"Come! We must go and see."_

They entered the throne room to see Mandos pacing wildly, which was highly uncharacteristic of him. Mandos was anything but calm, poised, dull because of his lack of show of feelings and such. To get this kind of a response would mean something far serious. Manwë and Varda entered through a door, hastening.

Irmo entered the door, his dark violet and silver robes trailing with the swiftness of his feet. His features were gentle with a noble bearing fining it. His eyes were cloudy grey, soft though at the moment they were full of worry.

"_Brother!" _He cried as soon as he spotted Mandos pacing the length of the floor restlessly. _"I had felt your unease. What has happened?"_

"_The dead!" _Mandos said his normally expressionless face now completely twisted in white fury. _"The dead refuse to come to my Halls! What is the meaning of this?"_

"_Our powers are wavering," _Manwë noted. _"Dagor Dagorath is fast in approaching."_

"_We have to start moving the people into Arda," _Yavanna said. _"Now, while there is still time!"_

"_Alqualondë is still heavily protected." _Tulkas said. _"But now the protection must extend towards the Gardens of Lórien."_

Irmo looked surprised. _"My gardens? Whatever for?"_

"_I think we will have a need of them yet. We have to form a safe passageway from the gardens to Alqualondë."_

"_It begs the question why, Tulkas." _Vairë said.

"_You would know why, Weaver." _The Vala answered. Vairë tilted her head to a side and remained silent. All the Valar knew that Vairë kept her silence of the future and they respected it even now, though many of them wanted to know.

"_You have been blessed with a temporary foresight, Tulkas." _Varda observed but Tulkas smiled grimly.

"_I would not call it a blessing, my lady, for I saw what is to come. At best, we move fast. I would suggest speaking to the Kings and the Lords who had taken domains in Arda in the past."_

"_Indeed_," Manwë murmured. _"Summon them to me. We have much to discuss."_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Whenever you do have the time, please leave a review. The silence honestly makes me wonder if my readers have fallen asleep halfway through the story...

**List of OCs:**

-You would understand Legolas mention of Elrond and Celegorm better by reading the one-shot "Meeting at the Lowermost Circle" in my stories.

**List of Canons:**

-It is said that the Valar progressively lost their powers under the command of Eru before the beginning of the Dagor Dagorath.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

Early morning the next day, just an hour after sunrise, Celegorm herded all of them together.

"Bullet trains connect all the cities together." Celegorm explained. "Inside the cities, we have horses and carriages to function, with various cleaning vehicles for the streets. Massive cargo is transported using trucks but other than that we keep no personal vehicles, including us."

They had comfortable accommodations, since Celegorm told them the terrain had made it necessary for the path to wind, so they would turn to the capital just before evening which was situated on the opposite side of the island.

He noticed that in spite of the more subdued air than the proud, stifling air for others around him Celegorm had once possessed in the First Age when he had been bounded by the Oath, there was still some unspoken danger about him, like a fire burning low and waiting for a last touch of fuel to flare and consume everything.

It unsettled Thranduil and he wondered if he would ever be able to trust the Elf. As if guessing his thoughts, Celegorm turned his head so that he could meet Thranduil's eyes and gave an uncertain smile but thankfully said nothing.

The salty sea breeze disappeared, now replaced by the forest air full of rich earth and plants. Celegorm explained that the majority of the island was covered with forests, providing them with ample wood, herbs, and fruits. It was through this they made their business by using the wood to form furniture and then selling it on a large scale around the world. It was not much but it was enough to keep the island going. The island itself was large enough for them to live in, even to the point of luxury.

"The grass is greener and the plants are healthier," Thranduil noted. Celegorm understood the underlying question.

"It is through the blessing of the Valar. When we came here, the Valar let us live on this island on the condition that we cause no trouble, and they made sure we had everything we needed so that we need not complain." The Fëanorion answered.

"The mists that cover the island-"

"A shroud from Ulmo to keep us hidden from everything," Celegorm said. "You will not see this island or locate it in any form, from the radars to the satellites and everything in between. Not even our own people find it once they leave the island, and it is only through the water-sprites that you may find it."

"You can't expect to tell me that no ship has suddenly crashed on your shores."

"I do not. Again, the Valar have helped us in that regard. Our island is not tethered to seabed. It moves with the waves and will continue to do so as long as the Valar see it fit."

"They have over-accommodated you, it seems."

"Yes," Celegorm said after a pause. "I would think the same, had I been in your position and you in mine." To that, Thranduil knew no reply.

The bullet train continued for a long while and Thranduil realized just what Celegorm meant by winding paths.

"We try to keep the trains as few as possible." Celegorm explained to him. "That means lesser noise, lesser place to build the tracks. Unfortunately, it also means that the trains have to go through more stops and it makes the journey longer. But as long as we have space, we do not mind." There were mountains which Thranduil was supposed to be in a form of a ring. "We gave them no name." Celegorm answered when Thranduil had asked. "You are right, these mountains form a ring about my city, of which I am lord. Maybe I will take you there someday." They spoke of little else. It was usually Thranduil and the others who posed one question and the other and Celegorm would patiently give reply to them all. It was in one of the lapses that Thranduil noticed some strange movement through the trees and found it to be from Elves, who were neither Teleri nor Noldor.

"The Avari," Celegorm said, noting Thranduil's attention. "These were the forgotten Elves, who still refused to go to Aman. We found them wandering like nomads in a desert through the lands and invited them to stay with us. They live in peace, and they keep no cities, but span through the entirety of our forests and remain scattered. But they are good people and they earn their keep by aiding us in woodwork. It is Maglor who was able to befriend them quickly, though they consider none of us their lord but respect us enough to hear our words."

There was a light lilt in Celegorm's speech coming from his mother tongue Quenya, which Thranduil supposed came from being cut off from the world for so long. And he stressed on some words more than others, almost unconsciously, he noted. It was something he doubted Celegorm could wholly be rid of.

Somewhere near noon, Thranduil found himself cornered by his wife, who narrowed her eyes at him.

"You are tired." She said. "Why don't you go and lie down for a while."

"I am fine, Armes."

"Do not lie to me." Arodien said. He nearly scoffed in disbelief when he noticed the sternness in her voice. "I have been watching you. You have not been getting enough sleep, Thranduil! You will take some rest."

He folded his arms but Arodien placed her hands on her hips, matching his gaze. Never liking a confrontation with his wife, Thranduil finally sighed.

"I have been a bit tired."

"I knew you would see sense." Arodien said, briskly ushering him to one of the cabins, having couches for rest. He stopped her when she moved.

"Stay?"

"Of course."

_He stood in front of a large marking stone, the language upon it an older version of Sindarin. Two graves lay side by side at its foot. Sunset cast its shadow upon the stone, and as night fell, the two graves burst open, its contents crawling outwards…_

"Thranduil, wake up!"

He lunged forward blindly before coming to a halt when two small hands on his shoulders struggled to keep him down. His eyes focused on his wife, her hair free from her sleep, sitting on top of him.

"Armes-"

"You were thrashing." Arodien said, sliding off him and running soothing fingers through his sweat-drenched hair. He sank back into his pillow, taking in a shaking breath. Arodien said nothing, but continued to run her fingers his hair, massaging his scalp.

"How long have I been asleep?" He asked.

"Barely half an hour," Arodien said. "Thranduil, what is it?"

He rose and she shifted with him till she was behind him, rubbing his back.

"I have been having visions."

"Visions?" Arodien asked, brow furrowing. "From the Ring?"

"Yes." Thranduil sighed and shook his head. "I did not speak of this earlier because I had felt there was no need but now the visions have become longer, more coherent and consistent."

"And your headaches?"

"There are there. I could feel the ache," Thranduil thought about his Sea-longing but said nothing of it. "My headaches are barely there, but it is constant." He leaned forward and rubbed his hands over his face. "There is a change coming, and it is coming soon. Whatever brief respite we have here on this island, it needs to end quickly for it."

oOo

_Bullet Train,_

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean._

Wanting some time to himself, he gave his excuses to his wife and slipped away till he found a spot for him to be alone. He sat by the window, gazing outside at the constantly shifting scenes. He sensed someone sit down beside him and assumed it was either his son or some other well-meaning friend.

"I am not in the mood to talk." Thranduil said without turning his head. He continued to look outside but the feeling of not being alone persisted so he turned his head in mild irritation.

"I said-"

Cassie was sitting beside him, dressed in loosely fitted purple trousers and matching shirt. She was watching him carefully. She had not slept well. He noticed the black circles underneath her eyes and her face tightly drawn from exhaustion.

"Cassie," he did not know what else to say. "Why are you here?"

"Who are you?" She asked in return.

"Why do you ask?"

"I want to understand."

Thranduil sighed, remembering their disastrous meeting the day before.

"It is a little hard to know where to start."

"My ears are open. Start wherever you like. Just," Cassie took a deep, shuddering breath and sat down on the floor a distance from Thranduil. She reached out towards his wrist but did not touch him. "Just explain it to me."

"It is a long tale."

He started when she touched his wrist.

"It must be hard to live so long." She said.

"It is what we are blessed with." He said, startled.

"Nevertheless," Cassie said thoughtfully. "It must be difficult. I do not think all of your kind would consider it a blessing."

Thranduil turned his head to the window, looking outside at the changing scenes. "No, not all did." He answered, thinking of the surprise and grief of the Elves when they first witnessed the Men die simply because their bodies had grown too old for them to live in. He also remembered the brief time when Elves had fallen in love with their counterparts in the Race of Men. Their deaths had brought about so much grief and mourning, until the Elves decided to simply distance themselves from Men. "It is said that death is a blessing of Eru, called the Gift of Eru. The Race of Men has a choice to leave this world and go beyond the Circles to a life we do not know. They are not tethered to Arda as we are. If we grieve too much, we Fade, or if we receive a mortal wound, we die. But we go to the Halls and are reborn to enter this world again. We cannot leave Arda behind."

"Have you-"Cassie swallowed. "Have you ever died?"

"No." Thranduil answered. "But my friends have. My father as well."

"Riley once said that you told him you had a grandson."

"Nimdir, my son Legolas' first and only child," Thranduil said. "He is full-grown, an adult in your terms."

"This is too much to grasp."

"I know."

"What is happening now?"

"That is another long tale."

"Who is this Lord Celegorf-"

"Celegorm," Thranduil corrected. "His tale is also very long. I cannot tell it to you in a matter of few minutes."

"Then let me come again and then tell it to me." Cassie said. "Please. Explain it to me. My daughter died because of this. My little girl was… killed because of this." Cassie's voice was shaking, he noted. "I deserve this much. You owe me this much." Thranduil turned his head to look at Cassie. Her eyes were wide, soft but demanding. But in them he also saw desperation to find some sense in all of this.

"Come to me again whenever you wish to know more." Thranduil said. "But I must warn you; it is a sorrowful telling."

Cassie looked down to her lap.

"Lee-Thranduil, whatever," Cassie said. "I have to know. Did-did my baby suffer?"

Thranduil thought quickly about Dawn's scarring on her forehead, then the whispered suspicions of Jimmy when they noticed Dawn's excessive fear around men.

"She died without pain and in loving arms and we sang laments for her and mourned her. We buried her with care and respect." Thranduil said eventually. But Cassie was shrewd for nothing. She sensed he was holding something back. Thranduil closed his eyes briefly. "The rest is too near and the wounds are too fresh. Please do not ask me to talk more on this." Cassie nodded wordlessly, fresh tears in her eyes as she moved to get up. Thranduil stopped her.

"I saw her," Thranduil said. "In the halls of her forefathers and she was happy and content. She is in a better place, Cassie."

"Perhaps," she said, giving him a watery smile. "But a mother's heart will always grieve the loss of her child. Thank you." she patted his hand, "For having the courage to tell me this. I can tell it was not easy for you to talk about it."

oOo

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean._

Once they reached the capital, they were given carriages for travelling through the streets. Celegorm, though, chose a horse and Thranduil insisted to take one as well. His choice had brought about a look of silent approval in Celegorm's pale eyes.

The streets were beautifully spaced, wide and well-maintained. The layout of the city obviously had some carefully thought planning into it. Here the buildings were smaller in structure, not as tall as the ones in the harbor. The windows were tall but narrow and the air here was considerably warmer so inland.

He was starting to draw attention to himself and he heard whispers of his name mix into other words. But curiously, he found that Sindarin was much more prevalent than Quenya. It was curious, since the Noldor's main tongue was the latter. He also found that, amidst the curiosity, Celegorm was hailed more than once. Here the Fëanorion was openly grinning as he answered to his people's calls, looking much more like a fresh young captain or a youth just grown.

Celegorm suddenly slowed his horse till he came to the same level as Thranduil.

"Are you observing the kinslayers in their natural habitat?" Celegorm asked with a wry grin. Thranduil could not help but give a small smile.

"'Kinslayers' was not a word I had thought in my head."

"Might I ask what you thought?" Celegorm asked, his face growing serious as he waited for an answer.

"You may and you have. But I will give no reply." Thranduil returned. Caught off guard, Celegorm gave a hearty laugh.

"Come! Let us make haste."

The Red Palace as it was so nicknamed was because of the red stone used to build it. The roofs were made of dark brown tiles and statues were carved out of the upper corners of the roofs. The stonework over the windows were intricate in style and the gardens were numerous, lush green with vividly colored flowers. The setting sun bounced off its rays on the glass windows and a wide staircase led up to the main dual doors of the palace. They dismounted here, Thranduil realizing just how long it had been since he last ridden a horse when he felt the discomfort from so brief a ride like he did after riding with Celegorm the first time in the harbor. When all of them had left the horses and carriage, and with Thranduil studiously ignoring the scathing look Riley was directing towards him, Celegorm led them all into the palace, where he smoothly separated Thranduil and his people from Riley and his family and sent them with the help of servants to their rooms.

"There is a feast waiting for us in the evening. On my brother Maedhros' orders," Celegorm said just before they parted. "It will be a good time to meet us all as well as some others whom you will find to be important figures for the future."

The rooms they were given was much larger than the rooms they had in the sea port. It was decorated in cream and brown setting, lively and bright with fresh flowers and various wooden decoration pieces. Two different bathing chambers branched off the bedroom. Already there were two Ellyn waiting for him and various Ellyth waiting for Arodien. The Ellyn he dismissed, since he had never been comfortable of help and had grown completely independent on his own.

He smiled a little as he watched the young Ellyth fuss over Arodien as they readied her for her bath. He had taken only a brief shower and changed into the clothes laid out for him, dyed in autumn colors. With that, he silently slipped away, allowing the Ellyth some freedom around the room.

There was still some time before the feast, he found. So he wandered for a while, admiring the architecture about him. Noldor decorated their buildings with more arches and intricate designs than any others. He stepped into one of the gardens, studying the neat hedges and the blooming flowers arranged in circles and bounded with pebbles. In the center of the garden was a tall statue of young Elf standing proudly with a circlet resting on his brow, his cloak swept back and gathered in one fist, the other hand resting on his belt. He had seen this particular face many times in his travels to Tirion. Fëanor's face was captured with an uncannily realistic touch

He heard feminine laughter and a baby's cooing approaching him and he turned to see a young woman walk slowly as she cradled a babe in her arms. She was dressed in light green garments, her black hair adorned with numerous emerald pins and a necklace of emerald about her neck. The babe had dull red hair and in olive green dress and shoes, with girly laughter ringing through the air. The woman came close till she finally looked up and spotted him.

"I am sorry," she said, still smiling from her play with the infant. She shifted her to her hip, ignoring her as the baby took hold of her necklace and tried to chew on her gems. "I had not expected to find someone here."

He blinked for a moment. She was beautiful for a mortal woman, for he was sure that was what she was, but her eyes seemed to be experienced like an Elf's and there was this glow of health about her.

"I suppose you are one of our guests." She had small traces of French accent to her English.

"Thranduil, son of Oropher, at your service," he introduced himself, bowing. She was startled for a moment before looking at him carefully with renewed eyes.

"Glaweth, wife of Maedhros," she said with a slight dip for a curtsy. "I accept your service." Thranduil glanced at her and then down at the child, who sported tipped ears and dark red hair.

"My granddaughter," Glaweth said. Thranduil started at that and she laughed lightly at his reaction. "Gelil, daughter of Anuben."

The baby was barely a few months old. She hiccupped before giving him a toothless grin.

"Come." She said. Her voice held a silent command, forcing him to set aside all the whirling questions in his head. Thranduil made up his mind to ask his questions later. "Let us go inside for the feast. We will speak more on this later. No doubt there is much to discuss."

oOo

_Valmar,_

_Aman._

"_You know why all of you are here." _Manwë said.

"_Your summons was troubling," _Amdír said. He was once the High King of the Silvan Elves, back in the Second Age. His death brought Amroth to the throne. After his love for Nimrodel, he consequently perished drowning close to what later was called Dol Amroth. Amroth had not yet been released from the Halls of Mandos.

"_The skirmishes are increasing in number." _Thingol looked extremely weary, as if he had given up days of rest. _"The enemy has started to establish camps throughout the land. We are having trouble keeping them at bay as it is. This summoning means you have something grievous to tell us."_

"_My news is not good to hear." _Manwë acknowledged. _"The dead, all of the dead, refuse to enter the Halls of Mandos." _Exclamations of surprise sounded throughout the room.

"_Is this even possible?" _Celeborn's clear voice rang over the whisperings.

"_It is unheard of until now." _Manwë said. _"The peace in Aman is vanishing and time is ticking forward. We must do what we can for now and prepare for everything else."_

"_Has King Thranduil established his stronghold yet?" _Ingwë asked. The Elf wore a metal contraption that served as the remaining part of a leg and a foot from his stump. He had pressed one hand against Elrond's shoulder for remaining support, not yet used to walking with it.

"_No," _it was Yavanna who spoke. _"He has not."_

"_What has he been doing all this time?" _Fingolfin asked in disbelief.

"_Calm yourself," _Manwë said. _"Oropher's son has seen much in the course of one year. He had to play many roles and only now he will be able to focus on just one role and that is being king. at the moment, however, he is occupied in some matters that I will not share just yet."_

All the Elves in the room glanced at one another unhappily but said nothing.

"_However, the real reason for calling all of you here was to speak to you about the need of strongholds in Arda. The Elves must return now, and we should start shifting the Elves there before it is too late and we lose lives."_

"_Elves?" _Fingolfin asked, raising a brow. _"What do you mean by Elves?"_

"_All of you," _Manwë said. _"I doubt Aman will be habitable once the Door of Night breaks."_

This brought about another set of murmurings.

"_I would suggest finding places to put down our strongholds-"_

"_No."_

Heads turned towards Galadriel, whose voice had been quiet but clear.

"_Do you have something else in mind, Lady Artanis?" _Manwë questioned politely. She raised her sharp eyes and met Manwë's gaze squarely.

"_There is something at work here." _She said. _"You are hiding something, or someone from us. I do not know what it is, and I do not know whether it is friend or foe. But I know that it is something powerful." _She looked around the room. _"I would suggest sending Thranduil's people to Arda first. To build a kingdom he will need people, and he trusts his own and knows how they function. Let us start building them one by one."_

"_So what do we do while he does?" _Fingolfin asked. _"We wait?"_

"_No, uncle," _Galadriel said. _"We explore other lands for our own purposes."_

"_I have already thought over who should go with this mission." _Manwë said. _"Celeborn, I believe you would be able to find something we could use."_

"_It shouldn't be a problem." _Celeborn answered.

"_Glorfindel is another choice." _Some eyes glanced towards the quiet Vanya who stood on guard behind Ingwë. The tall, broad-shouldered, hulking mass of muscle had lost none of his prowess. Glorfindel nodded solemnly.

"_And the other two are someone whom you might be happy to see." _Manwë raised his eyebrow as he turned to face two new arrivals that entered the room through a side door. Gandalf and Radagast stood side by side. Their time in Aman had treated them with kindness. They had lost their aged physical appearances, looking more youthful. Both of them held staffs in their right hands and they stood tall under the gazes of many.

"_I think, Olórin," _Manwë said with some humor in his voice. _"It is time for you to return to Arda?"_

Gandalf bowed his head.

"_I could not think of anything else, my liege."_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

I gave this chapter so much thought my head hurts.

**Concepts:**

**Youth of Mithrandir and Radagast:**

Throughout the course of LOTR books, Gandalf is progressively explained to seem older and wearier, due to the effect of his Ring of Power. Aman is considered to heal great hurts, and also when Gandalf first appears in Tolkien Legendarium, he is described to leave pleasant thoughts in his wake, so I always imagined him younger and considered his aging to reverse when he returned to Aman. Radagast I always imagined young and sprightly in order to keep up with animals like deer, rabbits and birds.

**Maedhros' wife:**

Call this a bit of bending the rules here. It will be explained more in the following chapters and it was an idea I toyed with long before I started writing Tempest. Even in Chapter 3 I was still questioning myself but in the end I needed it for my plotline to work in my head. I hate it when my plotline doesn't make sense to me in my head and I stay awake thinking over it. :P

**Relationship of Thranduil and Arodien:**

Considering this to be a couple that spanned over the Ages, I would say they are very much in tune with other. I have noticed that couples who live longer together have lesser tendency to pick a fight, where one would fall silent or the other would fall silent in order to avoid one. Also, they move pretty much in sync with one another. That is what I think for Thranduil and Arodien.

**Thranduil himself:**

For crying out loud, he is a mature Elf, and in this story, numerous Ages old. I hate it when such people are portrayed childishly, though I know there is always some ego problem or some lust for revenge. In my stories, a youthful Thranduil (that sotry has not been published) is more prone to hold grudges but as he grows older, he becomes more and more wise. He is wary of the Feanorions (which is smart) but he does not negate the fact that they will come hany (which is also smart).

**Celegorm and the other sons of Feanor:**

I want to keep a balance between what they were before the Oath, where I would imagine them as innocent and carefree till their father introduced weapons to them, and what they became after the Oath, where they had spilled blood and had this entire moment of planning and politics and conceit etc. So the balance is having the sanity before the Oath but having the power and strength they had from after the Oath. Having a Spirit of Fire as their father would mean they inherited some of that spirit from Feanor. I want to capture that element and stress that whatever the case, the sons of Feanor are not to be trifled with.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_Alqualondë,_

_Aman,_

The sun shone brightly upon them, casting light upon the shores when the gems scattered in the sand reflect it. The day was bright but his heart was shadowed by worry. The Maia controlled all roads leading in and out of Alqualondë and Olwë's heart still knew no peace. The shipwrights were busy at work and many ships were ready to leave. The stores were full with supplies they may need when the time came and more stores were being built to hold more supplies.

He listened to his wife's gay laughter as she and her ladies played in the water. He looked down at his own armor, well-polished, with his sword hanging from his hip. It had become a norm to dress in armor every morning, as he had done the past year. Troubling news all over Aman had placed Alqualondë on an extra alert. They kept a firm watch on all streets, waiting for even a single rumor. The fear that the ships would burn and lay waste, cutting off their only route to safety was great, and they could not suffer any chances of traitors breaking through their lines.

Little Olwë did know that there was one enemy he did not consider.

The Queen waded deeper in the water, dressed in a light shift and a great wave rose up, covering her in a shadow. Olwë turned swiftly, giving out an alarmed cry and alerting the guards who accompanied them. Her scream rang in his ears but the wave was too swift and bore down upon her and she vanished in the water as the wave receded, taking her with it.

"_OSSË!" _He screamed in his grief. _"Treachery! I will never forgive you for this!"_

He made to run for the water, and many guards tried to catch him but he evaded them. He could feel his wife's panic and fear through their bond, could feel her life slipping away. But before his boots even touched the water, a hand grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back.

"_Nay!" _The skies became dark and stormy, full of clouds when before it had been sunny and cloudless. Lightning cracked and hit the water surface in fury. He looked at his stopper and saw Ulmo gripping his shoulder. The Lord of the Sea was dressed in stormy gray raiment, his cloak bellowing out in the wind. His eyes were a meld of sea-green and sea-blue but at the moment they were a mixture of rage and compassion. _"You cannot fight Ossë! He is too great an opponent for you!"_

He would have replied but the bond with his wife snapped as she finally expired and her lungs filled with water. He gasped in agony and staggered, held upright by Ulmo's hand. He gave a dry sob and he clutched blindly Ulmo's collar in a chokehold.

"_What is happening now?"_

"_Uinen is raging against her husband, Ossë, demanding him to return your Queen's body."_

But the Sea churned and turned black as darkness fell but when it finally calmed, the waves did not bring anything to Olwë's feet and when they returned to the city, the Queen's throne was shrouded, forever to remain empty, and Olwë's heart was empty also.

oOo

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

When she walked beside him, it was then he noticed idly that Glaweth's long hair reached till her knees, braided and caught in a light shimmery green net. Gelil was constantly trying to reach it, but her grandmother's soft murmurings managed to keep the youngling content.

"I understand you have many questions." The longer she spoke, the more prominent her French accent became.

"Many," Thranduil said.

"I can tell you here and now that I am indeed immortal, though I am a child of Man." She said.

"I was not aware such a choice existed for the children of Men."

"It does not." The gems in her hair jingled as she turned her head to look at him while they walked. Glaweth bounced the child lightly. "But our case was rather unique."

"Everything about this is unique." Thranduil said dryly, unable to help himself. Glaweth looked at him in amusement.

"Yes, I suppose it might be."

She did not elaborate further though, and Thranduil could not bring himself to ask. She seemed to be quiet, as if waiting for something and Thranduil could not be sure what. Celegorm had said that the Noldor here were those who followed Fëanor to Arda and had perished in the Quest. Some of them had refused to accept Maedhros' rule and they were sent to Tol Eressëa in goodwill, but under the condition that they spoke to no one about the rebirth of the Fëanorions. He had noticed how he and his son were treated warily, coming from Sindarin blood, while they were somewhat friendlier with the others, including his wife because of the Silvan heritage. Thranduil found the thought a bit disturbing. If they had to function, they would have to set this aside, from his side as well as from theirs.

"I will leave you here." She announced just outside the door of the hall. "My lord husband seems to be taking more time than usual, and his brothers will not appear until he does so." She quirked a small smile. "I will see you later, my lord." With a slight dip of her head, she turned, speaking softly in French with her granddaughter. Turning towards the hall, he took a deep breath and entered.

The hall was still very empty, except for some lords who were laughing and talking amongst themselves. It was clear that while it was a formal event, it was not a stiff one, leaning towards some casualty since the host himself had not appeared to greet them. He spotted Miranda and nearly choked on air. The woman was dressed in a blue dress with flowing wide sleeves trailing against the floor. While the dress itself was a beauty, it did nothing to compliment Miranda, especially with the state of her short hair. She looked morose, even a bit sulky, judging from her huff and arms folded over her chest. Grinning slightly, he made his way to her.

"You look ridiculous in a dress." He murmured to Miranda.

"I know." She said wearily. "It does not go at all with my haircut." She cast him a withering look. "Do not bow to me."

Thranduil raised a brow at her in a challenge and then bent at the waist, bowing towards her with an exaggerated flourish. When he straightened, he grinned as she scowled at him.

"That wasn't so bad." Thranduil told her.

"I hate you. In fact, I hate all of you." She jerked her chin to where Jimmy and Jason were standing. "Those two did the same."

"We are just being our gentlemanly selves, Miranda."

Miranda answered with a very non lady-like snort. They glanced around the hall and spotted Alice wander over to them. She was dressed in loose fitted trousers, with a knee-length shirt, slit on either side to provide her a freedom of movement. The dull mustard color of her trousers and shirt with her royal purple sash wound about her waist complimented each other well. Miranda looked at her outfit with longing.

"A dress?" Alice asked skeptically as she came near and after they exchanged initial greetings.

"They forced me into it." Miranda said, barely hiding her disdain towards the Ellyth who had helped her.

"I know why." Alice said in some humor. "The Elf who had… attacked was a betrothed of one of them. She did not take it kindly."

"Oh shush, I did not lasting damage."

"If that is what you are talking about," Thranduil interrupted, highly amused by the conversation. "Then I take my leave. This is not a dialogue I want to have."

The two women waved him away, obviously befriending one another on the common topic.

He would have wandered about a little more but a new arrival caught his gaze. He looked in surprise at his wife, who was dressed in a crimson dress, her hair flowing freely. He realized they wore the same colors, meant to complement one another.

"What do you think?" Arodien said as she approached him.

"I think I am glad you are married to me." Thranduil remarked. Arodien burst out laughing.

"You look just like you did when we first met."

"Except for being thrown into the water by an Elleth."

"It was an accident." Arodien said smoothly. She had been quite defensive on the matter when they were newly married but Thranduil never ceased teasing her about until finally she learned to bear it with grace. "And you must admit it did you good." She touched his arm lightly, steering him away. "There is something you should know. I met a lady here whose presence might be surprising-"

"So you must be Lord Thranduil Oropherion," the bold, feminine voice turned around. An Elleth stood her red hair and ruddy complexion immediately helping Thranduil in recognizing her even though he never met her before. Lady Nerdanel, daughter of Mahtan. No other Elf except for Mahtan's kin possessed the red hair and the darker complexion. She stepped forward, studying him with brisk eyes. "I met your wife." She was blunt in speech, he noticed, caring little about pleasantries. "I found her incredibly amiable to speak to. I wanted to meet you as well." She raised her hand for him to take. "Lady Nerdanel, daughter of Mahtan."

"Lord Thranduil at your service," Thranduil said bowing over her hand before releasing it.

"I accept your service." Nerdanel said before glancing once at Arodien in amusement, clearly guessing she was warning him about her presence here. "The feast will be delayed for some reasons." She said. "Walk with me," she said, gesturing towards the open doors that led outside to the gardens. Thranduil glanced at Arodien but the Elleth simply drifted away. He gazed after her in disbelief. His wife literally abandoned him! Turning his head towards the expectant Lady, Thranduil nodded and offered her his arm which she took.

Nerdanel was everything a noble would be, at least here in the feast. She was dressed in copper dress, with her hair styled in many ringlets gathered to the back of her head and held in place with a copper circlet. She walked with an air befitting a noble lady; though he noticed in that practiced grace some unease.

"The feast might bring about some new shocks." Nerdanel said.

"Particularly your presence, my lady," Thranduil answered. "When I came to Tirion the first time, I was told you had retreated to the mountains, seeking solitude and conversed with none but your parents because the grief of losing your family was too near."

"It was true, at the time when I did lose my family to the madness." Nerdanel's voice held some bitterness as she recalled her memories. "But then my sons were freed and I was given the choice to reunite with them. I took the chance, and let the excuse become my ruse."

"Who else knows about their return?"

"My parents know, as well as Celebrimbor. The other part of the House of Finwë, however, remains thankfully ignorant."

"Lord Círdan knows," Thranduil's mind suddenly made the connection. It was Círdan's ship, after all, that led them here. Alice was on board the whole time, hiding and waiting. The Teleri Elves had helped as well.

"He was summoned from Aman by the will of the Valar to continue managing the ships for our help. Tol Antanë was in need of those services."

"You do realize what might- what will happen when the others found out about your sons being reborn?"

"I do. Though I would prefer not to think about it, especially on a feast as nice as this one."

"The feast has become late."

"Yes," Nerdanel looked amused. Thranduil would liken her to another woman he had met briefly, when it came to frank speech and bluntness, and that was to the Lady Éowyn, though she was much gentler in voice and manner in awe of him when he met her. "You have caused quite uproar in our family wing."

"Did I?"

"Yes, though you were the topic of the discussion. Celegorm has wanderlust. He would travel from place to place, explore new areas. That is why he is usually the one investigating the outer world. He gave Maedhros and Maglor a lot of trouble in the past year, to the point even my eldest lost his temper, something that rarely ever happens."

"So far I have heard of four, where are the twins and Curufin?"

"The twins own some lands separately here on Tol Antanë." Nerdanel said. "Maedhros will explain everything to you, better than I would."

"Then why have you brought me here?"

Whatever her reply would be, he would never know. A page came running to them.

"My lord and my lady! Lord Maedhros calls you to come immediately. There is something of importance!"

Thranduil glanced at the lady before him and then the two returned to indoors faster. Arodien was waiting for him and he took her hand, leading her by his side.

They were led to a room, longer than it was wide. He spotted Celegorm standing between a black-haired Elf and a dark, red-haired one. He had never met either of them personally, but he could not forget when he saw them last, during the Sack of Doriath. Both Maglor and Maedhros however had their eyes fixed upon the screen in front of them.

"Strange beasts have been sighted in Ukraine around the abandoned city of Pripyat."

"Know anything about this?" Celegorm murmured. Thranduil shook his head.

The scenes shifted to reveal camera footage. Wargs were scouring the streets and the people were screaming in terror.

"They allowed the Wargs to roam free." Maglor's voice was smooth, striking many notes before falling silent. It was pleasing to hear, and it took everyone's attention in the room. "This is a great leap. It means we are running out of time, and swiftly."

"The others will soon follow." Maedhros said, stroking his chin. All of them were dressed in finery for the feast, meaning it was evident they were stopped because of this news.

"Lord Maedhros," the newcomer said. "Your presence is requested by your Commander."

"Please excuse me," Maedhros murmured. He looked directly at Thranduil. "I apologize for this inconvenience but there are some things that I must see to. The feast will continue but I am afraid neither I nor my brothers will be able to make an appearance." He reached forward with a hand and Thranduil took it after a brief moment of hesitation. "I know there are questions to be answered, and plans to be made for the future, but let me sort some of this for the moment."

"I might be able to give some help-"

"No," Maedhros interrupted. Then he smiled faintly. "I understand and appreciate your willingness but let me handle this, this time. You have taken responsibility before; now allow me to take my turn as is due. You should rest and relax. The feast was in your name after all." Maedhros' eyes were the palest amongst the three brothers, a light grey that seemed to make the fire within burn so bright it was difficult to make an eye contact with him. But his smile was full of genuine warmth. He nodded, deciding to say nothing. However, a part of him wondered that now that they were free of their Oath, were they still able to invoke some of their spirit to fight?

As the door closed behind him, he heard one of the Fëanorions say to Maedhros jokingly, "Come now, Maedhros, at least offer us some biscuits and water!"

oOo

_Red Palace,_

_Tol Antanë,_

The next morning he asked some of the servants who directed him to the library. It was large, larger than he had expected, spanning over the three times the size of the hall they had the feast in. It was high as well, with tall bookshelves which were reached through ladders. He saw tables with chairs here and there for studying and he spotted the tall windows wide open to allow fresh air inside. The library was brightly lit with modern lighting, and he saw many computers lined on long tables joined together at one end of the library. He wandered for a while, smelling the scent of paper and books and ink coming from the scholars and students sitting there and studying.

He asked for a few directions until he found himself in front of a few shelves that dealt with the history of Silmarillion. Much to his surprise, he found a large section dedicated to the subject. Usually the history was confined to a few, thick books that took up space of a part of single shelf. Here, however, he found different books spanning over the time of the Silmarillion, dealing with the cultures, traditions of various Races in various places, and also on the internal matters. He found some maps rolled into shelves until one spectacularly thick book caught his eye. Most of these books were now typed but this one seemed to be written carefully by hand in flowing Elvish script. He studied the signature on the first page, realizing this book was written by Maedhros himself.

Flipping through the pages, he found many illustrations to go with the flow of history. He found hand-drawn maps for battles and geographical locations. He found sketches of various figures, including that of Aredhel, Huan and Elwing. He stopped by an illustration of two boys, identical in looks with flowing black hair over their shoulders, laughing together as they sat on a staircase. He stared down at the image of Elros and Elrond, though he could not tell them apart. Elrond barely ever spoke about his foster-fathers, but he knew he loved them dearly, since he defended them in cold steely voice when someone dared to speak ill of them in his presence. Other than that, it was subject that was never broached as an unspoken rule.

However that was not what he was here for.

He flipped to the end of the book, noting with a bit of relief that the handwriting was unbiased and stated the facts as they were. He found what he was looking for; the prophecy. Leaning against the frame of the bookshelf on his side, Thranduil continued to read.

"Túrin will rise from his grave before the coming of Battle of Battles," Thranduil murmured as he read out the script. "His grave beside his mother's is preserved upon an island called Tol Morwen, which will remain till the end of time, for he must avenge the Curse Morgoth placed upon him."

That explained his vision, of two graves opening in front of a large marking stone.

"Gurthang will be re-forged to take Morgoth, but here the prophecy is not clear, whether it is Tulkas or Gurthang be the slayer-"

"You are not the first person to reach for the books on the Silmarillion."

Thranduil snapped shut his book with a loud, vibrating thud and jerked to a standing position. Maglor stood some distance away, with his arms folded as he studied him. The Elf was comely in appearance, slender just like his eldest brother, but with black hair ending in slight curls like Celegorm's. His grey eyes peered at him beneath arched eyebrows. His voice- Thranduil remembered that he was named Kanafinwë by his father, "The Commanding Finwë" and it was said he possessed his father's power of the tongue.

"We reached for the same sections, my brothers and I, when we learned that the Door of Night is breaking." Maglor continued, seemingly unaffected by Thranduil's scrutiny. "What do you think that of Maedhros' book?"

"The illustration of the twins is very detailed." Thranduil said. "It makes me wonder a bit."

Catching Thranduil's sarcasm, Maglor's eyes suddenly blazed with cold fury.

"Do not," he stressed on every word, his voice turning icy, "ever take the names of those twins in my presence or Maedhros' ever again. You know nothing about the time or how dear the children had become to us." Maglor stepped back and bowed stiffly at the waist. He turned as if to walk away but Thranduil's next words stalled him.

"You expect me to forgive you easily." Thranduil said. "How can you expect it of me, when I think of what you did to my city?" Thranduil paused and added, "How can you expect me to trust you if you turned against your own kind."

Then he whirled about; his hair moving with the motion till it fell over one shoulder. The anger was gone, and Maglor now spoke carefully.

"I am sorry for what happened to your mother, as well as to your kin and kith." He said. Thranduil noticed he spoke clearly, carefully, just like Celegorm and Maedhros. He wondered why. "It was an unfortunate business and it had been something most terrible to speak of." Maglor tilted his head. Unlike his brothers, Maglor possessed a deeper shade of grey eyes, stormy to look into with a colder flame than the ones that burned in his brothers' eyes. "But do not expect us to grovel."

Thranduil watched Maglor leave and smiled in silent approval.

oOo

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

Later, back in his rooms he shared with Arodien, he opened the door to a very persistent knock and found Cassie standing there, looking at him expectantly.

"Is this a bad time?"

"Of course not." Thranduil said, ushering her inside. Arodien looked up from her seat, smiling at the newcomer.

"I think I will need a fresh bit of air." Arodien said lightly. She excused herself, gathering the slim red notebook where she had been jotting down some points as Thranduil dictated them to her. Without giving them much time to process it, Arodien smiled at them and left without another word. He gestured Cassie to take a seat and he poured her some refreshments before sitting down on the carpet a distance away from her.

"What do you want to know first?"

"What do you think I should know to make all of this sense?"

"I would suggest the beginning then," Thranduil said after a pause.

"Then start from there."

"I will give you a summarized form of events." Thranduil said. "If I were to give detail, then we will be sitting here for many years."

Thranduil had taken no refreshments for himself except for bottled water that he fiddled with as he spoke. He told her the beginning of time, the coming of the Valar, the First Music, and Melkor. He told her about Aman and the awakening of Elves and about the beauty of the Trees. He told her about the House of Finwë, about Fëanor and the Kinslaying and the sons of Fëanor till he spanned over the entirety of First Age.

He had been speaking for at least four hours and Cassie gave him her undivided attention as he spoke, her face giving the only indications of her reactions to various parts of the narrations.

"These Elves," Cassie said slowly. "These Lords, Celegorm and his brothers, they are murderers?"

"Yes."

"But-but," Cassie sputtered. "Why? Why are they here?"

"That is now a tale of the future. And some part of it I wish to know as well." Thranduil said, staring down at the bottle in his hand, now empty of water. He had been taking small sips throughout his telling to keep his throat moist and he still felt his mouth was dry. "I can tell you that there is a great war coming, and for it we will need every able warrior or perhaps anyone who can take up arms."

"Do you trust them?"

"I do not know." Thranduil said at last.

"I think you do." Cassie said.

"Why would you think that?"

"Riley said that you become all fierce and watchful when something wrong is about to happen. You aren't like that right now. You are worried, and anxious, but you are not watchful." Cassie smiled a bit. "You have changed and it's not just your looks." She gestured at his long hair, the circlet resting on his brow and the robes that proudly denoted his station. "You seem regal, like some old king of a forgotten legend." She blinked, possibly at her own description.

"Do not call me old," Thranduil said dryly. "Only the Elves who were first to awaken are old. I consider myself very young, but do not tell my people that." He added. "They love picking one another when it comes to ages."

"You don't behave like a king." She said. "You are sitting on the floor, but I am on a chair. A king doesn't serve his guest himself and he certainly doesn't toy around with a plastic bottle in his hands."

Thranduil chuckled.

"I was never meant to be king." He said, studying the legs of the table and idly noting the shiny varnish on them gleaming in the light. "My father and I were lords, nobles, related to the king, but we were in no way in line to the throne. Father still behaved with some resemblance to how a noble should behave but my life was with my comrades, out in patrols in cold winter nights and some mischief brewing in one corner or the other."

"What happened?"

"The Kinslaying I was telling you about," Thranduil said. "I lost my mother in a fire, to the soldiers of the Lord Maedhros, in fact. After we fled, there were just… endless responsibilities. My father was later made king and I had to stay by his side. He died and I was made king," Thranduil drifted off in thought, remembering the darkness killing the forest, the twisting of the trees to evil. He murmured softly, "to a land dying and drying out of life…"

"I think you were meant to be king." Cassie said, interrupting his thoughts. "Your people love you, at least. You could see it in their eyes."

Thranduil smiled and said nothing.

"How is Riley?" He asked the question with some hesitation but it was better to ask this then pursue the other line of thought. He was not too comfortable with the thought of leading the Elves through another set of darkness, which will be much more devastating than the one created by Sauron.

"He is grieving." Cassie said, the traces of her previous smile disappearing completely. "He has become very bitter."

"I suppose it was partially my fault."

"No, I think he is blaming himself." Cassie said. Thranduil looked at her in surprise. "You don't know half of what has happened when you left. It was the Captain who found out about your documents, and Riley blew the haystack over it. He kept defending you, saying you were clean." If Thranduil had been feeling any less guilty before, he felt even worse. "He was certain something was wrong. He was trying to look into it himself." Cassie took in a deep breath. "I think that is what brought this enemy to our doorstep. A part of Riley doesn't forgive him for endangering his family like that."

"It was nobody's fault." Thranduil said. "This enemy has no morality, no ethnicity. You cannot hope for them to behave anything but lesser than animals."

"Do you believe that? That it wasn't anyone's fault?"

Thranduil smiled and said nothing.

"What is to become of us?" She asked, breaking the silence. "I mean, you can't hope to keep us here."

"You cannot go back, Cassie." He said gently. "I cannot let you go back. For the sake of secrecy as well as for the sake of your lives. I simply cannot. You and your family will be well taken care of. Your children will be educated and Riley can work here if he wishes-"

"He wants nothing to do with you."

That hurt.

"I know." Thranduil's voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "I am sorry for the pain my presence in your lives have caused. If I had a choice, I would try to take it all back."

"A part of me blames you too." Cassie admitted finally. He could see from the relief in her eyes that it was a confession that burdened her for a long time. But that did not take away the sting from her words.

"I know."

They sat there quietly, facing one another.

"What should I call you? Lee or Thranduil?"

"Call me Thranduil." He answered. "It is my name after all."

"Thranduil, I just might be able to find it somewhere in my heart to forgive you or set aside that feeling."

"I hope so." Thranduil said, smiling up to her before dropping his gaze back to study the smooth curving of the wooden legs of the table. "I would hold on to that hope."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

I am soooo behind replying to reviews and for that I humbly apologize. Pain is no fun to write in or anything else, for that matter. -.-

Maedhros' character has been explored a bit in **"As Soft As Steel"** one-shot, denoting his friendship with Fingon. Kindly note that I do not write slash.

Olwe's wife is unnamed so I did not name her in this story for the sake of simplicity.

*waits for everyone to process Olwë's wife's death*

Ahem.

*runs away screaming as she is chased by readers with flaming torches and pitchforks*


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**

Double chapter update, since I am just too nice for my own good.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

_Redwood,_

_United Kingdom,_

The squirrels skittered down the tree trunks, chattering away to one another as they hurried to greet the newcomers. The trees shifted, the branches bending down in a movement that was completely unrelated to the wind. Other animals, the deer, the birds, and the rabbits moved about, livelier than usual.

"They have not forgotten us, it seems." Gandalf said, looking about him.

"Arda has changed its face, but it is still familiar to the touch of those long past." Radagast said, stroking his black beard. A sparrow flew and perched upon his staff, chirping wildly in excitement. He stroked it with a long index finger. "Oromë has chosen well. This forest will serve Thranduil well."

"Indeed. For now, I think, we should announce our arrival on a more comely fashion." He raised a brow for Radagast who nodded. The bird, as if understanding something great was about to happen, took flight into the air and the animals stilled in anticipation. The two Maia raised their staffs high and with great force brought it down upon Arda's face. Vibrations shook throughout the earth in ripples, its sound shaking the air before stilling, though they both knew the ripples will spread till they met together on the other side of the planet.

"That should warn them." Gandalf said. "Aman will soon empty, and this, my dear Radagast, will be a battle for the ballads."

oOo

_Tol Antanë._

_Pacific Ocean,_

Ukraine was in full shut down in a matter of two days. Planes were not allowed to leave the country, and no planes were allowed to land. People were not allowed to leave the country and no one was allowed to enter it. With the presence of Wargs, the governments continued to speculate the chance of some disease that brought about the existence of Wargs under the action of some radiations. However the presence of the Maia, capable of doing 'magic' was still not explained.

"Ignorance can do so much damage," Thranduil said once as they sat and listened to the news.

It also did not miss him when he noticed how the House of Fëanor suddenly disappeared from the Palace. Oh, he did see them here and there from time to time, but they mostly kept to themselves and even tried to stay clear of him. Maedhros he did not see at all, and after his confrontation with Maglor the latter always seemed to find a way to escape him.

"Sometimes I feel like I am giving some form of stench that keeps the Fëanorians away," Thranduil complained jokingly once. "They change paths; they try their hardest not to be where I am and make sure to send word through servants."

"Well the Sindar are known to have this characteristic smell." Fion said gravely, making Arodien laugh. Legolas choked on his mirth and gave a small yelp when Thranduil seized him from the back of his neck and shook him slightly.

"Don't laugh," he warned his son. "I will not take it kindly, and besides you have my blood, son of mine, so do not doubt why they are wary of you as well!"

"At least I am not the one they tried to kill in the Sacking of Doriath," Legolas choked, trying to wrestle out of his father's grasp.

"Well speaking of deceit," Thranduil said, suddenly releasing Legolas and causing him to stumble from the loss of opposing force. "I would like to address the issue of hiding Fëanorians' existence from me. I have decided to look it over just this once," Everyone looked suitably relieved. "Now let me make one thing clear to all of you. If I am to be your king, I will need all of you to trust me wholly like the way you did before in Greenwood, and I would need to trust all of you wholly so that I know my orders are followed without question. This will not work if you hide things from me. I will overlook this once, and only once, without penalty, but do so again, and I will remove you from your positions without any hesitation, whether it is temporary or permanent." The last sentence really made his threat went home, judging from their stricken faces. "Now somebody get me Hanon and Noron. I do not care what time it is. I want those two to communicate with us."

It took them half an hour to set up the proper communication.

"Hanon, Noron," Thranduil said.

"Thank goodness for Skype, eh?" Hanon said dryly. "You know, when I imagined the Fëanorians in my head, I never expected them to be the type to adapt to modern age."

"Guess they surprised as all," Thranduil said chuckling. "But I actually called for other reasons. I want the both of you to go to Redwood and start laying down the first of enchantments."

"If you want the same fortifications as the ones we had in Eryn Lasgalen, then it will take us years-"

"That is why I want you to go and start now." Thranduil said. "We have absolutely no idea how long it will take for the Door of Night to break completely. One thing is for sure, with the Valar's diminishing power, the Door of Night is breaking and Morgoth can strike it down even in his harnessed state. I want the forest to have some semblance in being ready for us to start building a fortress."

"Thranduil," Arodien began. "A fortress, or a kingdom in a forest, it is bound to get noticed."

"We will handle the government." Thranduil said. "Thank goodness to Ukraine for that matter. I think their eyes and ears will open a bit now that they are witnessing things that cannot be explained by science."

"Círdan said he was expecting more ships but security has tightened in France when it comes to any transport through Sea." Legolas said. "The Swan-ships of the Falmar will be easily noticed and questions will rise."

"I will speak of the matter to Maglor or Maedhros," Thranduil said. If he could find them, he added to himself.

"The city planners coming from Aman will help us in making the city layouts."

"It should not be too hard, since it will be more of fortress than a city."

"We are going to live there, Sire," Thorontur argued. "We might as well make it comfortable."

"I would agree, if we had time on our side." Thranduil answered. "The planning for my Halls took a few months and the Halls took years to complete. But again, we do not know how much time we have on our hands, nor do we know how long Dagor Dagorath will be. It can span for decades even, so I want this fortress to be built for practicality. Leave room for all else, so that when we do have the time, we may be able to beautify it. But I want the defenses to be strong, fortified with enchantments, and I want it capable of housing many, and able to have enough supplies to live out sieges for months or even years without a problem."

"Building it with modern technology will be hard," Fion said. "We have to get the government involved. There is nothing for us to do. If we do not and they found us smuggling military goods, we are liable of starting a war, one that we do not have the time for!"

"Fine, we will speak to the government." Thranduil conceded. "And Valar help us all if it does not go according to plan." Thranduil rubbed his face. "What else?"

"The project will need everyone to chip in." Thorontur said. "What we have in mind will take billions of dollars."

"Something everyone is ready to do." Fion added. "You would not need to worry about that, Thranduil."

"I know." He flashed his old friend a quick smile. "My people's loyalty is something I can wholly trust."

With Hanon and Noron preparing to leave for Redwood, Thranduil and the others once again found time in their hands.

One morning found Thranduil exploring the Red Palace. He had noticed that no area of it was restricted to him and he was allowed to roam freely. He found himself in a gallery that morning. The various paintings made him realize that he was looking at the artwork depicting the time of the War of the Silmarils. Some of the paintings were peaceful, showing forest hunts and various city or fortress scenes or landscapes, but others were full of horror, like the Grinding Ice, or the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. He came upon a portrait of Elrond and Elros, playing with pups while sitting on the ground. He spotted Maglor playing a flute in the background, black hair obscuring his face.

"The twins, Elrond and Elros," he turned at the sound of a voice. Maedhros stood behind him, garbed in mustard yellow. Where the color would have made many looked sallow and sickly, he seemed to be golden-skinned in it. The Elf smiled a little. "Maglor told me you asked about them and he had become a little heated. I apologize. The topic is a sensitive one."

"No apology is necessary," Thranduil said, turning back at the painting. He noted that as many paintings as he saw of Maedhros, he always stood with his back towards the viewer and in a corner. "I admit I had baited him somewhat. "

"Very understandable," Maedhros said, footsteps indicating he was coming towards him until he finally stood right beside Thranduil. "I do hope we met your satisfaction, since your purpose was to test whether or not we have gone wholly soft. I can assure you we know the art of war." Thranduil did not hide his growing smile. Maedhros had a quiet air about him, almost dream-like but he possessed a sharp mind and an observant eye.

"Touché," Thranduil murmured.

"A game well-played," Maedhros complimented him in turn. "I apologize further for my absence. You see, I was very busy. We are having a little trouble with Ossë, and also we have to deal with some other fortifications of this island. There are ships coming from Aman and we have allowed our island to receive these ships. The outside world is becoming more and more suspicious by the hour."

"I intended to speak to you on that."

"And I can tell you that I have no problems of them coming here to Tol Antanë."

"I do not think you would be too happy with the prospect of meeting them."

"I do not… really have a choice. Celegorm was usually the one to receive such guest but brother mine decided to go on a protest against me, and I am the one handling it from now on." Maedhros stopped before adding, "You are right, I am not too happy with it." He straightened, suddenly becoming business-like. "I do not doubt that you will have some questions for me. And you have gone far too long without any answers."

"I do."

"And I also know that you would want to meet these ships coming from Aman. Travel with me to the harbor. The sprites have said that it will take the ships to come in a matter of two days. I could show you a bit of my island if we take a longer route. It might help in understanding us a bit, and it will be easier for me to explain." Thranduil hesitated and Maedhros picked on it easily. "My lady wife can show your wife how our household runs and how the island is managed. Times have changed, and with it the way the kingdom runs. It will aid you in building your stronghold."

"Are we travelling by a bullet train?"

"No," Maedhros said. "We will travel by plane."

"A plane?" Thranduil said after a pause. He had not expected to aerial activity here on this island.

"I find that I love the skies more than land."

_A black-haired elf, garbed in black stood with his back at him. Metal hit nail and a coin flipped into the air, the symbol of Oropher's house turning in the air…_

oOo

_Tol Antanë,_

_Sky,_

He studied the Elf sitting across him. Maedhros' mother-name, Maitimo or "Well-shaped One", suited him well. Everything about Maedhros not only spoke handsomeness but his features were perfectly proportioned. He was tall but it suited him. He was lean but not in a way to make his limbs look awkward or gangly. He was well-muscled, symbolizing the strenuous exercise he had gone through to keep himself fit over the years. His burgundy hair was untamed, falling in waves and curls, though bound together in a band at the nape of his neck. His hair was long, covering the expanse of his back. At the moment, he had his eyes turned away, looking out the window, but he could see the paleness of his grey eyes almost mingling with the whites of his eyes. Maedhros was perfectly aware that he was being studied, Thranduil knew, but he kept his head turned away, letting him take his time.

"We have made some developments which you might be interested in looking at." Maedhros said, breaking Thranduil's assessment. Maedhros gestured to the silent Elf sitting beside him with a hand, and he surrendered a tablet to him. Maedhros fiddled with it a moment before handing it to Thranduil. Looking down on the screen, he saw a picture of Wolf, glaring at him.

"His real name is Jackie Stevenson." Maedhros said. "He is an American who served in the army. He has been places, and somewhere in one of the concentration- I am sorry, happy camps, he overstepped his boundaries and tortured a prisoner for personal gratification and was court-martialed-"

"Not that they do not overstep boundaries of torture as it is," the silent Elf muttered, breaking off Maedhros midsentence. Then he gestured in apology.

"My son-in-law," Maedhros said dryly," Anuben is my advisor, and also one who wedded my only child, Eldariel." Anuben possessed typical Noldorin features, the sharp outlined cheekbones, pale skin and black hair, though much slimmer than most. Then he continued, "He is a thug, taking the advantage of a war for his own interests." He took the tablet from Thranduil. "Just the kind of many Morgoth would like into his army."

"And just the kind to abuse his power. The other men with him considered him their leader."

"He is nothing but a coward," Maedhros scoffed. "He is cocky, his mind being creative in many forms of torture only because he knows he will get away with it. The worst that could happen to him? Prison, perhaps? But his type will grovel when they so much as feel their lives being threatened. And to Morgoth, he is nothing but a pawn, a puppet playing to his tune until he finally has no use of him. When he has no use of him, Morgoth will not hesitate in ending his life." He handed Thranduil the tablet once more and this time it was a picture Thranduil instantly recognized.

"We were also investigating how the Enemy found out about you. We had not even known of your presence in Arda until Oromë mentioned it to us. You have been careful, no pictures or videos to pin you to the past and the present. And you have kept a low profile. We found one connection." Thranduil was still staring down at the picture of Monique, the Hispanic doctor who was on their team, forming forensic reports. "They bided their time when they found you, in order to earn your trust as well as keep track of your movements."

"Are you sure?" Thranduil asked.

"We are, and we will be more certain when we finally catch her. I have already had Celegorm send some of his Hunters to bring her in." Maedhros ran his hand over his mouth, still looking outside. "It will also explain the kidnapping of Riley's daughter. He had Monique look into a few files related to the explosion of your car and as well as that on the victims of the Warg case. He was beginning to see a few connections and Monique was well-aware of it."

Thranduil sighed and returned the tablet to Anuben. Then Maedhros turned his head and regarded him closely.

"You are not to blame," the Fëanorian said. "Anyone could make that mistake, and in the case where you were simply living on your life when the world was not supposed to know who you are, you could not be blamed to trust them so easily. But take care not to make the same mistake again."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Monique... yeah. No joke.

Here, *gives everyone an axe* you can kill her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:**

Too. Nice. For. My. Own. Good.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

When Thranduil looked outside, he found that they were much nearer to the ring of mountains surrounding Celegorm's kingdom. Maedhros explained the only way inside the city was through the various roads. It was built more as a fortress with the fortifications lying mostly in the mountains. But they were just flying at the outer surface of the ring, till a valley came into view. A city was built in gleaming white marble, tinted gold by the sun's rays.

"My brother Amras' domain," Maedhros said. "Each of us built our domains in memory of the past. Celegorm will always remember Doriath, and how his life was connected to its one aspect or the other. Caranthir remembers the Kinslaying that sealed our Oath."

"And the rest?"

Maedhros smiled and said nothing. When they had landed and went into the city, he noticed that there were more automobiles here.

"Amras loved to study the art of Healing, even before the taking of the Oath. The city is built for everyone but it is mostly for those who need healing or want some respite. I had granted him more use of vehicles here because of the role he plays and the needs that arise from it."

It nearly resembled an ancient Roman structure, with numerous steps any way he looked reaching platforms of various levels. Two large statues protruded to the skies in the middle of the city. One was of Lórien, standing with his head tilted up to the heavens, while his wife Estë lay peacefully asleep by his feet. Lórien was well known not only to be the Lord of Dreams but also for his Gardens, where the reborn would awaken and stay till they gained their strength. Estë was known for healing hurts and aiding weariness by curing it with sleep.

"Amras also supplies the rest of the island with doctors, nurses and other professionals related to the subject." Both of them opted to walk instead of riding, and Anuben has excused himself, remaining behind and letting the two move on without him.

"And where is this brother?"

"You will never find him in his palace." Maedhros said. "Him or his wife, in fact, since both of them are into healing. He is not to be trifled with, however. He moves just as quickly with a blade in his hand as he does when a patient needs him. As for where he is-"

The children Maedhros was gesturing towards were mortals, with different skin colors and a variety of physical features. Some of them he guessed were Mexican, Spanish or Vietnamese but a few were European and many were Africans. Some, he realized were handicapped, either confined to chairs or possessing prosthetic limbs.

"Orphans," Maedhros said. "Amras and Celegorm have the tendency of picking up pathetic mortals whenever they travelled." Though his words seemed harsh, there was an unmistakable amount of affection in his voice, for both his brothers and the children.

He easily spotted an Ellon standing amongst the children, strongly built, with red hair lighter than Maedhros'. He was copper-skinned, and unlike the Elves, he had cut his hair short, barely brushing his shoulders, though the tips of his ears were fully visible. He had the top part of his hair pulled back firmly into a band, probably to keep his vision free. Amras was dressed like the other healers, in white fitted trousers and knee-length tunic over a white full-sleeved shirt. The tunic was slit to give him freedom of movement. He carried a young African girl in his arms, her skin dark brown and her hair in deadlocks. He was chattering with the children, laughing lightly at whatever they answered him. As if feeling someone's gaze on him, the Elf turned and caught them both. He gently placed the girl back on her wheelchair, brushing his hand over the head of a small boy before marching up to them.

Amras nodded at him before turning his attention to his eldest brother and ran an experienced eye over the length of his body.

"So what is the problem?" Amras asked. "You never take a step into my city unless you are having some form of difficulty. " Suddenly, Maedhros transformed from a cool lord to a brother as he cuffed Amras lightly.

"Keep your insolence to yourself!" He said. Amras was not affected as he laughed instead and rubbed the ear that took the playful blow. "You are right, I come only when I need to and at the moment I would like to know where Glándir is. He retreated to your city, as I have found out." Amras laughed suddenly as if knowing a personal joke.

"He is well and he is back at the palace. I trust you know your way or do you wish me to come along if you have any need of me?"

"I have no need," Maedhros said. "I only came for Glándir, and I would not dare disturb the peace here. Go back to your work. I will summon you again when if ever the time comes."

Amras nodded and gave Thranduil a smile before heading back to his crowd of children waiting for him.

"He has no children," Maedhros said as he led Thranduil to the palace. "They can have them if they so choose, but they have been adopting mortal children since the moment this city was erected. He keeps to himself and gives all his attention to his work. I did not introduce you, since he prefers to do little with anything he is not needed for."

"A good cause," Thranduil murmured, glancing over his shoulder as Amras knelt and disappeared into the crowd.

The palace, also built in white marble, rested on a high platform reached by evenly placed steps. The building had numerous wide and round pillars, but instead of having modern lighting, they had lanterns hanging down from the ceiling. Because of the daylight, the lanterns were shuttered. He frowned as he looked up at them, noting that in spite of the shutters, the lamps seemed to be still alight.

"These are-"

"Fëanorian Lamps, yes," Maedhros said. "Amras worried that modern technology, while making many things possible was in no way matched to our lamps. They will not extinguish in wind or water, and they will stay lit forever."

When they entered the palace, he noticed the lack of glass on the windows which were completely open, the curtains made of silk-like cloth twisted till they rested upon the very bars they were hanging from above the windows. He found some more mortals here, though these were youths. As Maedhros had predicted, the thrones of Amras and his wife in the throne room was empty, and looked as if they had been empty for years judging from the lack of obvious use. The cushions were well-plumped and the cloth was new, and both the thrones were placed on the ground with no raised platform for them.

He noticed an Ellon leaning against the pillar, studying them both careful and he started in surprise when he recognized Glorfindel.

But it was not Glorfindel, as Thranduil's voice died in his throat. His features were unmistakably Vanya.

"I would like you to meet Glándir," Maedhros said, gesturing at the Vanya Elf, who stepped forward and nodded his head toward Thranduil. "He belongs to the House of the Golden Flower, Glorfindel's younger brother." Glándir smiled at him.

He was Glorfindel's splitting image, though he was slightly shorter and a bit leaner. His merry smile was just as contagious as Glorfindel's been, with noble, handsome features calling for a second glance or maybe even a third. The Elf stood straight, balancing his weight lightly on the balls of his feet as a capable swordsman would do.

"It is an honor." The Elf said, inclining his head.

"Mine as well." Thranduil said in surprise. "Forgive me; I had not known that Glorfindel had a brother."

Glándir's smile faltered at Thranduil's words.

"I can imagine." He said gravely. "My brother and I had not seen eye to eye before my death. It may be the reason why he kept his silence."

"In what manner did you not meet eye to eye?"

"My brother held the view of Turgon," he said, his face darkening with shadow briefly. "He and I were at odds but both of us never let it come between us. I loved my brother dearly but some things were never meant to reconcile between us. I died on the day when Gondolin was sieged and invaded by Morgoth's men." The Ellon's eyes unfocused slightly, as memories returned to him. "We were meant to hold the Great Market. We sent everyone ahead but we were ambushed, surrounded. The dragons came, and I was amongst the first to fall. Because of my views, I was forbidden to reborn just like the rest of the sons of Fëanor."

"Why did you follow them again?" Thranduil asked. Maedhros listened quietly, not saying a word. Glándir nodded.

"Because this time I had the choice in my hands; there is a large age difference between my brother and me. He was past his majority but I was not when Fëanor called upon his people. When we followed, I remained under my brother's command. This time, though, the choice was mine to make and not anyone else's. I chose what my heart wanted. And also… my brother is keen-eyed. He knew why I was being withheld from rebirth. If I were to return to my brother, he would become suspicious and the sons of Fëanor will have to deal with the problem of being found much earlier than they wished."

"I am sure Glorfindel remembers you much." Glándir's face brightened. The longer he spoke to him, the more he picked out the differences between the two brothers. Glándir's was somewhat thinner, more built for agility than brute strength, while for Glorfindel it was a running joke that his girth was enough to move large stones with a single light push (or maybe even a certain wizard off a cliff, but it was one he only shared with his father!).

"I am sure he does the large oaf. Though my heart hopes he does not blame himself for my death. The dragon fire was supposed to take my brother, but I pushed him out of the way, and I fell to the flames."

"Have you recovered, Glándir?" Maedhros asked a slight trace of laughter in his voice. "Celegorm has been asking after you."

"It will take more to bring me down, lord! I do hope he realizes it."

"What were you recovering from?"

Maedhros suddenly laughed.

"It was… one of the women traveling on Aeglos. Miranda, I believe her name is." Understanding dawned on Thranduil's face and he firmly suppressed the chuckle erupting from his throat.

"I apologize on her behalf."

"But she wouldn't. As I recall, she was very pleased with herself. But I accept it nevertheless!"

"Glándir took the ship along with Alice. He is Celegorm's second in command. The mission was a test run for Alice, to see whether or not she is capable of a leader."

"I was to oversee her." Glándir said. "She did well, though I might have handled the part where she pointed her gun at you differently, but I think the purpose was to drive the message home."

"And she succeeded."

"And she got a good reprimand from Celegorm for making it more difficult for him to earn your trust."

"Enough on the past," Maedhros interrupted. "There is another reason why I have come, Glándir. Now that you are in…" Maedhros' lips twitched, "walking condition, I am to go to the harbor and you are to come with me."

"And why is that?"

"Ships are bound to arrive from Aman and on one of those ships is your own brother. I need you to meet him." Glándir was already fair-skinned. Now he visibly paled to become as white as a sheet.

"Come on, toughen up."

"Lord, I have no wish to meet my brother, not like this!"

"I can assure you," Maedhros said, lips twitching to a side in a wry grin. "Our presence will overshadow the shock of yours, if that is what you are worried about."

"Then why are you going?"

"I would rather face them now then face them later. Either way, it will not be a reunion without some insults thrown to each other in a way."

oOo

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

They stayed the night in the palace, intending to make directly to the harbor the next day.

"On the way back to the capital, there is another thing to show you." Maedhros said. "We will not cover Celegorm's city."

They fell silent, sitting on the window seats, staring out the window. The one they had chosen overlooked the back gardens, which contain lush valley plants and flowers, with numerous fountains of white and black marble.

"Your wife is a mortal." Thranduil said.

"She was."

"How is it possible?"

"When we were reborn," Maedhros said. "The Valar took from us an Oath, just as strong as the one we had taken with our father that we will do no evil and cause no mischief. We took it readily. After a lifetime of terrible unrest, and woes the Oath of Fëanor had caused it, peace was a large blessing." Maedhros took a sip from his glass, before setting it on the wide windowsill. But as time went on, Dagor Dagorath was fast approaching. The winds of change were beginning to blow, and another Oath was called from us. We were asked to stand by the side of the Valar and never pull apart from them or to align ourselves to the Enemy." Maedhros picked up his glass and took another sip. "We took the chance, or rather, my brothers did, but I did not. The Oath was heavy to take, and my brothers were content to take it but I was not."

"It in the nineteenth century, in France," Maedhros said after a brief pause. "My ship was damaged in the storm as we were forced to land. Glaweth was the daughter of a merchant, who, while successful, wanted more than just wealth. He wanted power and station, and intended to wed her to one who can meet both criteria."

"What did you do?"

"I had a larger claim." He said dryly. "Someone who asked for less and gave much is a person well-liked. I courted her for a year under her father's presence and after 'accidental' shipwrecking news, when I managed to wrangle a travel with her while her mother acted as the chaperon, I courted her for further five years until she was accepted me for who I was and we wed. The Valar were not pleased, for the whole time, I was the only one who had not taken the Oath. We had a deal; Glaweth to accept immortality and live by my side in return of my Oath. She took it and I gave my Oath. Her mother lived with us till her years were spent. Eldariel was born some fifty-five years ago and she married only recently, and Gelil was born just a few months back."

Thranduil studied the Elf, noting the unmistakable soft smile on his face when he mentioned his wife. He loved her dearly, and Maedhros struck to him as the person who would put his duties before himself. And as someone who faced so much in his past life, this was something Maedhros had wanted for himself.

"I am worried that this was not the best of choice," Thranduil said quietly.

"You are not the first to say so." Maedhros answered. "But to me, it is the best."

oOo

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

As Thranduil had expected, Caranthir was not in residence when they arrived.

"It is very closely guarded secret of how he manages to know exactly when the guest would arrive."

"You don't know?"

"No. He never told me. He knows I would tell him to stay put if he does."

The day passed in tension. Maedhros seemed just as calm as ever, but he noticed that the Elf seemed a bit anxious.

"Glándir, you will go on to greet the guests with Anuben." Maedhros said. The four of them were standing on the docks, gazing into the water as they waited for the ships to appear.

"Lost your nerve?" Anuben asked dryly.

"I think that unsheathed swords right on the harbor will not be the best way of taking things along."

"In other words you want the happy reunion to keep the emotions stable."

"I do not know what you are talking about."

"You say that every time I am right but you do not want to admit it." Anuben, Thranduil had learned, was one of Maedhros' younger, fresh commanders who followed him. But when Morgoth had tricked him and captured him, Anuben had fought, eventually being killed.

"I could go." Thranduil said quietly. "It might help in keeping the emotions low. Maedhros is right. It is best that way." Maedhros' face did not change but he noticed faint lines of relief.

"Thank you."

Thranduil nodded wordlessly. These 'sane' Fëanorians, as Legolas had jokingly termed them, were very amiable, and a part of Thranduil liked them, but he could never forget the past easily. He found that he could not trust them completely. Glándir and Anuben excused themselves, talking as they walked away.

"Not all those who wander are lost," Thranduil said suddenly, turning his head back towards Maedhros. The red-haired Elf nodded.

"A passcode we use," he explained. "Celegorm came with it, from Bilbo Baggins' verses describing Aragorn. Celegorm always loved to wander, more than any of us."

"The crownless again shall be king," Thranduil continued, now looking at Maedhros in renewed light. Everyone called Maedhros 'lord'. He never heard anyone call him 'king'. And by all rights, it should be Maedhros the High King of Noldor, at the death of both his grandfather and father.

The ripples in the water caught his attention and he turned to it.

One of the water-sprites floated towards him, hesitation in her eyes. He knelt and she immediately drew away, watching him warily. He stayed still, waiting for her to come on her own. When she did, she grabbed the hand adorning Húro with surprising strength he did not expect her to have.

"Storm is better controlled at its peak." She said. Her accent was exotic, clearly showing she spoke rarely in other tongue than her own which she shared with her sisters. With that, she turned to the water and disappeared. He was still kneeling, staring after her, when Maedhros spoke.

"Listen to the sprites," Maedhros advised. "They know what they speak." Thranduil said nothing, looking down at Húro.

"Olwë's wife is dead." Maedhros said, breaking the silence.

"What! How?"

"Ossë," Maedhros answered. "He caught hold of the Queen and pulled her into the waves, drowning her. Three days have passed and her body is not returned."

"What does Ulmo has to say of this?"

"At the moment he has said nothing. He is battling Ossë, or so the water-sprites say." Maedhros said. "Uinen is not pleased. But it is not something that I find wholly surprising. After all," he raised his eyes to look at Thranduil. "Your ship had crashed and so did the one bearing your son and subjects. I think Ossë is still very loyal to Ulmo, but the darkness in him put there by Morgoth is making it difficult for him to control himself. He has a fight with himself and I do not envy it of him."

"THE SHIPS ARRIVE!" The shout interrupted their conversation. Sure enough, they spotted swan-ships from Aman coming closer to land.

"I do not envy it either." Thranduil said. "Come, it is time, I think."

Maedhros' lips twisted as if he tasted something bitter. Thranduil found the expression amusing.

"You are not afraid, are you?" Thranduil asked boldly.

"Me? Nooooo, I am just thinking this will go as splendid and full of warm hugs and happy tears!"

Maedhros' voice was dripping with unexpected sarcasm and in spite of himself, Thranduil grinned.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

So what do you think?


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:**

Just so you know, I cannot write a poem or a song to save my life. So the lyrics in this chapter are not mine.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

_Airbase,_

_Greenland,_

"Cold and dank," Rúmil beside Haldir, "Why did we ever stay?"

"You hardly complained." Haldir answered, smiling at his brother.

"That was before the cold set in my very bones." The Elf stamped his feet in an attempt for some warmth. "Now I feel as if I can never get warm."

"Get inside and sit by the heaters, then."

"I would rather sit inside a heater." Rúmil grumbled, making Haldir laugh as he pushed his brother lightly on the shoulders towards the entrance of the underground barracks.

"Go on."

"Aren't you coming?"

"I would take a stroll before heading inside."

"You are daft if you want to stroll in this weather."

"Move before your nose falls off into the snow."

Rúmil grabbed hold of the mentioned, admittedly pale part of his body as he ducked inside. Haldir watched him leave with a small smile before shaking his head and turning about. He had to admit he felt cold as well, in spite of the thermal clothing and the layers upon it. No one else was walking about and many had taken shelter as they heard about the upcoming snowstorm.

He turned around a corner and a strange smell filled his nostrils. He furrowed his brow. Gas pipes ran along the buildings protruding out in the snow which supplied the entire base. He kept walking forward, until a person came into view, standing above an exposed gas pipe, a chunk of it cut off from where it leaked. The man lit a lighter in his hand and suddenly Haldir knew what was going to happen.

"NO, DON'T!"

But the lighter fell and time seemed to slow as the gas leak took fire and the sound of the explosion shook the air. Haldir felt intense pain in his back as he tried to flee before the world went black.

oOo

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

Maedhros managed to escape to the Palace and Thranduil stood beside Anuben and Glandír on the docks. The skies were suddenly cloudy, and no sun shone down on them.

"They had better dock quickly." Anuben said, looking up in the sky. "Ossë is too unpredictable in choosing sides."

The ships seemed to be of the same idea. The ships were moving rapidly.

"Well, at least not that fast. Do they want to crash into land?" Glandír muttered. "It is as if Glorfindel himself is manning the ships." Thranduil, who had witnessed Glorfindel's steering once or twice managed to squash his laugh.

Glorfindel was the first to disembark when the ships were brought into the harbor. The Vanya was tall, broad-shouldered and barrel-chested. He was heavily muscled, towering over most Elves because of his girth and easily recognized because of it. The Elf smiled when he saw Thranduil but the smile was replaced by stunned look when he rested his eyes on his younger brother.

When Glorfindel finally set his feet on land, he grabbed his brother roughly by the arms, studying him intently, as if he could not believe he was alive. When he spoke, it was in an ancient dialect of Quenya and the brothers embraced, Thranduil turned his eyes away from the scene. The Elves always felt everything, the depth of love, the touch of joy and the pain of grief. Such naked emotions were meant to be felt privately. Among the new Elves stepping onto the docks, he spotted a face he did not expect to see.

"Father?" Thranduil stuttered. "How-?"

"I managed to persuade the Valar to let me come with the ships." Oropher said, drawing his son into his embrace While Thranduil and Legolas had startling resemblance with one another, Oropher and Thranduil were nearly splitting images of one another. Thranduil clutched his shoulders, taking in the warmth with a silent gratitude. Oropher always had a calming effect with his personality. "I heard," Oropher whispered in his ear, "About the mortal girl. I am very sorry."

"Thank you."

"How do you fare?"

"Better," Thranduil said, pulling back slightly but not so much as to leave his father's arms completely. "How is it that you know English?"

"Times have changed. Where Eru and the Valar once kept their distance from us, now they participate more freely. It is a Blessing. Although," Oropher's one corner of his lips pulled upwards in a wry grin. "They said that other things of Arda are something to learn ourselves." Thranduil thought about teaching his father about cellphones and movies and inwardly cringed. The thought of them as fiction and fan fiction arose and he grimaced.

"Really, brother," Glorfindel drawled. "You have become archaic. Speaking in a Quenya so old."

"Careful," Glandír said. Both the brothers had eyes shining too brightly with the sheen of tears. "Language speaks age and you are older, I recall."

"How could you not, given I remind you of the fact every step of the way?" Glorfindel did not wait for a reply but pulled him into a tight embrace. "I missed you, brother mine."

"Let us head this reunion inside." Anuben spoke up. Thranduil glanced at Maedhros' son by marriage, and noticed the strained smile.

They continued to the Palace, chattering away as they proceeded up the steps. They came to the Palace too soon, for Maedhros waited at the lounge, accompanied by Elves whom by their clothing were from noble backgrounds. The newly arrived Elves skidded to a halt, for no Elf could be so tall and possess dark red hair and be dressed with the star of Fëanor on his shirt except for the name 'Maedhros' come to mind.

"You," the single word was able to hold all the accusation, disbelief and anger Glorfindel could possibly be feeling. Maedhros said nothing, his arms folded across his chest, chin tilted up in an unspoken challenge.

"How is it that someone like you be reborn?" Glorfindel said, voice deadly.

"Glorfindel," Glandír started.

"How in the world the Valar allowed people like you back here into Arda?" Glorfindel continued, body tensing as he took a step towards Maedhros. Glandír grabbed hold of Glorfindel's shoulders.

"Glorfindel, calm down."

The Vanya shrugged off his younger brother.

"Calm down," he hissed. He gestured towards Maedhros and the rest of the Noldo standing with him. "That filth had left us to travel through the Grinding Ice, all on our own! We suffered because of them!"

Maedhros was the only one who did not have any weapon on him, at least not any that Thranduil could not see. The others, however, were gripping the hilts of their swords tightly. No matter the fact that they were no longer bound by the Oath that drove them mad after the Silmarils, they were still not the type to be trifled with.

"As far as I recall," Maedhros said coldly. "My father's speech was for all, and none were forced to follow his purpose against his or her will."

"As far as I recall," Glorfindel answered, voice as hard as steel, "you and the rest of your brothers were nothing but war-bringers, leaving woe in your wake. Tell me, how did it feel when you took Eärendil's twins from their mother?"

The sound of swords leaving their sheaths rang through the room as both sides drew their weapons. Maedhros raised his arm to stop the Elves behind him from attacking Glorfindel but to no avail. Behind Glorfindel, Oropher and the others leaped into action to stop the coming onslaught but they barely took another step when something unexpected happened.

A sound similar to the sound of a thunder clap shook the room and instantly both Maedhros and Glorfindel with their allies were pushed apart, slamming against opposite walls before sliding down to the floor from the impact. Everyone blinked before glancing at Thranduil.

"Now," Thranduil said evenly, lowering the hand adorning Húro to let it rest loosely by his side. "How about we discuss this matter calmly, as we should, given our prolonged age?"

All of them had the grace of looking ashamed.

"Sheath your swords."

The quiet command in Thranduil's voice did not escape any of them. But Húro's power seemed more intimidating when Thranduil was able to wield it according to his own wishes. Immediately, swords returned to their sheaths and the Elves pulled apart, abandoning threatening postures. Oropher, Maedhros and the rest of the Elves who had struggled to stop the coming fight stared at him in shock and a little bit of awe.

"I know we never saw eye to eye." Thranduil said. His voice, in the silence of the room, sounded very loud and clear. "And in some things we never will. There are some things we will never trust one another for. But at the moment, none of that matters. We have an actual problem here so I would suggest all of you to throw away your misgivings harbored for many a millennium and focus on what is coming." He glanced at Glorfindel, who refused to look back. The hulking Elf had his gaze fixed on the ground, lips drawn into a thin line in an attempt to control his temper. "And what we are here to do." He finished. "I think the fact that we are nearly hounding for each other's throats is something pitiful for our kind as well as for our age. Take some time to calm down and I would suggest to think over what is more important in the meantime; finding revenge, or uniting to fight the same foe." The gathering was stayed where they were, until finally Thranduil raised a brow, adding, "Move."

Galvanized into action, the Elves shuffled away and dispersed. Touching his father lightly on the shoulder, he gestured at him to follow him. But halfway to the door, Glorfindel grabbed his shoulder.

"You cannot possibly think of trusting them." Glorfindel said in a low voice in his ear. "They have killed their own kin, and they will not hesitate to do it again."

"Maedhros' men burned my house, my mother trapped in it." Thranduil answered in the same tone. "Trust me when I say this, I am not eager, but I am not a fool to turn down their help." Nodding, he pulled out of the Vanya's grasp, Glandír lurking behind his brother's frame, no doubt staying to cool him down.

"You have become wise." Oropher observed when they were well out of earshot from everyone.

"Always the tone of surprise," Thranduil teased lightly, in an attempt to bring some humor.

"The younger version of my only son would have attempted to fight and I would be the one holding you back. I am impressed." Oropher said. He hummed in approval when they stepped out into the gardens.

"How is mother?"

"She is fine." Oropher answered. "The Valar are looking after our families. They had given their word on it. She stayed behind to oversee things. We intend to move the entire city here in Arda, if you have chosen a place, that is."

"We have." Thranduil said, clasping his hands behind his back. "You were not so surprised to see Maedhros and the other Noldor."

"You have mistaken passivity for lack of surprise, my son." Oropher said dryly. "I can assure you I was very much surprised but I know you well. The fact that you were so at ease with them meant more to me than to Glorfindel."

"You don't think this will be a problem, do you?"

"I think it can become a problem." Oropher said. "Unlike us, Glorfindel and the rest of the Vanya and some of the Noldor had more of lifelong history with the Fëanoriannath. I would say that if not handled properly, this will turn into a large problem, one we would have to address before it grows too much."

They stopped walking and faced each other, by a statue of a young Elleth facing the direction of the Sea. There was sadness in Oropher's eyes.

"Is something wrong, father?"

Oropher sighed and pressed the palm of his hand against Thranduil's cheek.

"There was a time when I thought that a Ring of Power would do us good. But now, I wish it did not come to you. This burden will break you in the end, son of mine. And I hope for my heart that behaves as a father does, that I would not witness it."

There was boding in Oropher's words, and Thranduil could not help but let it fill him as well.

oOo

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

"Where are you taking us?" Glorfindel asked in suspicion.

"We are taking you inland." Maedhros said. "Trust me, if I wanted you dead, I would not hesitate to do so. But I think I would like to have an Elf who took down a Balrog on my side." Maedhros turned on his heel without saying anything else. Glorfindel's lips twitched.

"I like him and hate him at the same moment." Glorfindel said.

"I feel the same thing." Thranduil admitted, watching the Fëanorian move towards the bullet train.

It took them a while explaining bullet trains to the new Elves.

"This is too much to take in." Oropher said, rhythmically rubbing his index fingers on the temples. "The Valar were not underestimating the fact that the world was completely different." He raised his head and looked out the window. "So this cellphone… is used to speak to others on long distances?"

"Apart from other things, yes," Thranduil said grinning. He decided he would explain smartphones later.

The train stopped a few hours later on a station instead of continuing the whole way to the capital.

"Just beyond the station is what we call the Keep. The rest of the way from here on, we will either walk or ride." Maedhros said. But there were not enough horses for them all, so Thranduil opted to walk, his father taking the horse offered to him instead. They continued on in this fashion, going along the wide path in the dense trees. When the trees eventually thinned out, he saw a completely different scene. This was the rockier and greener version of the valley where Amras had built his city. The clearing was vast, deepening into the valley, and richly colored in green. He saw that the buildings were small, so small in fact, that Thranduil considered it thoroughly impossible for a Man to live in them, much less an Elf. The buildings looked like-

"Why, hello there!"

First he looked around, and then he looked down to see a curly haired child-no, it was no child.

"A Hobbit," Thranduil said, voice comically discolored as he tried to process it.

The Hobbit smiled, wrinkles forming around his eyes and mouth. The Hobbit possessed a healthy shock of curly black hair nearly covering his ears form the abundance of it. He had his hands on his hips, his brown eyes bright and merry. The Hobbit was barefoot, and hairy. For a moment, Thranduil even forgot that he was in Modern Age.

"Bungo Baggins, at your service!" The Hobbit chirped, stoutly reaching his hand forward. Thranduil took it and shook it.

"Thranduil Oropherion, at the service of your family and yours."

"Oho! So you are the Elf who Lord Maedhros had decided to entertain, eh!"

The Hobbit did not let go of his hand, but tugged on it, forcing him to walk alongside him.

"I assume it must be me. Forgive me, but are you the descendant of a Baggins?"

"Oh, I come from a long line of Bagginses." Bungo said.

"I am sure you do." Oropher said gravely. He had dismounted while Thranduil was tugged along and now walked to catch up with them. The unspoken laughter in Oropher's voice did not miss Thranduil. The first thing Thranduil's Warriors had done when they came to Aman and met Oropher was to tell him the entire story of Smaug and a certain Bilbo Baggins, who managed to escape Thranduil's scrutiny. These were the few times Oropher had laughed so hard. He passed a long-suffering gaze at his father who only smiled before turning his attention back to Bungo. "So Master Baggins, tell me about this fair place."

"We call it Red Hills, sir!" Bungo said. "I am the Mayor of this place, so if there is any problem, please speak to me about it."

"We will, indeed." Oropher promised.

_"I can hear it," _Thranduil warned his father, switching to Sindarin. _"Stop laughing."_

_"I do not know what you are talking about, boy. Do elaborate." _

The term Red Hills were aptly given. All the Hobbit-houses sported red tiles on their roofs. And the houses were built in neat rows and the streets winded this way and that. Beyond the houses, however, were fields upon fields, reaching up to the mountains which were cut cleanly as if butter with a butter knife, and the fields were full of fresh healthy crops.

"We supply the entire island." Bungo continued to speak, the previous part of his chatter missed by Thranduil who decided to listen more carefully this time. "We grow all sorts of crops and fruits and vegetables here!"

"Arodien!" Thranduil called suddenly, catching the sight of his wife standing amongst some of the Hobbit-women. "What are you doing here?" Bungo, now forgotten, shook his head with a smile and ambled off, whistling softly to himself.

"Lady Glaweth invited us to see how the island ran," Arodien said. Legolas stood some distance away, who hurried to meet his grandfather. Arodien reached forward when Thranduil drew near and embraced him.

"Maedhros' wife," Arodien whispered in his ear. "I think she was testing me."

"What makes you say that?"

"The way she looked at me whenever I answered her questions, and she seemed to analyze me whenever she thought I was not looking. I think she wanted to see if I were capable of being a King's wife." She pulled apart, still remaining in his arms.

"You are more than just a consort. You are a Queen." Thranduil said, unable to hide the annoyance in his voice. Arodien placed a hand on his elbow to placate him.

"I think I passed. She smiles more warmly now."

"I don't think it is only you being tested." Thranduil said, feeling Maedhros' eyes on him. The burning wedged deep in Fëanor's firstborn's eyes did not go unnoticed.

"I can't help but wonder why." Arodien said.

"They want to see if we are worth helping." Thranduil said.

The rest of the conversation was halted when Maedhros approached them.

"My lord," Arodien greeted him, tilting her head.

"My lady," Maedhros returned. "I am sorry to cut the reunion short. I need your husband for a moment." Turning to Thranduil, he said, "Come. There is something I want to show you."

They walked in between through the fields, Thranduil noting the heavy machinery used for the fields. Many of the Hobbits were out in the fields, deep into work. They ascended on the stone steps up across the mountainside. Maedhros led him to a corridor deep into the mountain, the doors thrown open.

"This leads into the Forges." Maedhros said. They entered the wide entrance, lit with the Fëanorian lamps that shed white light with such brilliance that no corner was left in shadow. He heard the harmonizing 'tink', 'tink' of rocks being chiseled away. He listened to it, the sounds not as harsh as he had heard back in Mirny Underground. It was like a melody, addicting to hear.

The entrance widened into a balcony, with steps on his left and right side and he looked about, seeing numerous hardy platforms along the inner side of the mountain which had both Elves and Dwarves at work. Banners hung from the platform, of a hammer upon an anvil by silver thread, and the star of Fëanor in grey thread resting between the hammer and anvil.

"My brother's banner," Maedhros said. "Amrod is the only one who was willing to take father's craft."

"And the Dwarves?" Thranduil said.

"A small colony resides here with Amrod and the rest of his smiths. We leave them to their work, and they supply us what tools we need, whatever they may be."

They heard a rumble and the ground quaked slightly, dust rising from the stone floor. Thranduil turned his head and saw a large, larger than life… thing moved towards them.

"An automaton," Maedhros said. "One of the first inventions the Elves and Dwarves created together, improved over the years."

It was built with a body of polished brass covering the inner mechanisms. Steam arose from the shoulders where the arms were attached and the automaton was given a face of polished brass. One arm ended with a naked blade, and the other possessed a war-hammer.

"This is a security automaton." Maedhros explained. "It is very deadly, and it only guards the innermost parts of the forges, where Amrod and others design the military goods and keep the secret plans of newer weapons. There are others."

Just then, another automaton moved, smaller and slimmer than the first, one Maedhros told him was nicknamed 'the Spheres", since they possessed no legs but instead rolled about on a sphere and stopped themselves in one places using the extra limbs coming from their 'thorax'. They worked to check any abnormalities in the forges and report them to the smiths. There are many others, serving for other purposes." Maedhros led him up the steps, guiding him through corridors. Here the design was completely different from the Mirny Mines. Here the designs were delicate, intricate, with beautiful flower and leaf patterns and murals set with precious stones and gems.

"You are well-equipped." Thranduil observed.

"The mountain only supplies us with gold veins and gems." Maedhros said. "We use them to make jewelry and it is sold at a high price. We use the money to buy ore and make further equipment of our own designs."

Many forges branched off the corridors, and in spite of the smell of smoke and metal, the air was fresh and breezed through even if it was hot. Finally they came upon a forge which turned out to be their destination, and the forge was occupied.

The Elf stood alone in the forge, wearing no shirt. His back was towards them, the muscles rippling as he moved his hammer with fluent strokes that spoke nothing but practice and talent combined.

"AMROD!" Maedhros roared, but his voice drowned out under the loud hammering. But feeling the eyes on him, Amrod stopped in mid-stroke and turned his head. The Elf turned his head away and grabbed the metal and returned it to the fires.

"Maedhros," Amrod said, pulling on a shirt that clung to him because of his sweat. He was nearly an exact image of his twin, except that he kept his hair long, and tied in a knot at the nape of his neck. He glanced at Thranduil and nodded before reaching out with his hand. They shook hands, Armod's grip being firm.

"This is Thranduil, son of Oropher," Maedhros said. "And this Amrod, the youngest."

"I am still older than Amras," the smith said wryly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Thranduil. As my brother would have told you, I supply the island with all sorts of equipment and the Forges also make weaponry. Should you need anything, I would be willing to open trade."

"I would… consider the offer." Thranduil said, surprised. Glancing at Maedhros, he realized this was what he was brought here for. Thranduil was being given the opportunity to look into all options and choose whatever met his needs. He had not expected it, and even if had, he did not expect an offer so quickly and clearly unasked.

"At the moment, however, enjoy the time you have here. There is plenty of time for planning. The evening will bring certain arrangements that will celebrate this special occasion."

As the evening drew near, he saw what the arrangements were. The Hobbits milled about, laughing and chattering as the colder wind blew across the fields. Large pumpkins were brought out, cut and diced. Other vegetables were given the same treatment, and Elves broke into the clearing, bringing in deer, fowl and pheasants and soon the rich aroma of food in cooking pots filled up the air.

"They had requested for some buildings that solely served as kitchens." Maedhros said, appearing beside him. "We still are making plans for them. At the moment, though, they are content in cooking in the open.

Large carts pulled over to the vast clearing and Thranduil soon saw why. Thick rolls of darkly-colored cloth was pulled out of the cart by Elves, who tugged on them till they spread like long strips of cloth over the grassy clearing, apparently to serve as a place to sit and eat.

"Does this happen every day?"

"Not with this much merriment," Maedhros answered. "But it is quite the norm here in the Keep. The Dwarves rarely ever join. They are very absorbed into their work."

As night fell, numerous poles were erected and strings of lights were twined around it. The cooked food was removed from the roast pits and placed on large platters on the strips of cloth. Carts were wheeled in, carrying crockery and Elves sharpened their knives before carefully cutting the cooked meat and placing them on plates and distributing them to anyone who walked up to them. Thranduil and his family were also offered sections of fowl, dripping in gravy and accented with herbs. Amrod sat with his brothers across where Thranduil was seated, dressed in dark gold and black clothing.

Once they had eaten and the dishes were cleared, voices stopped and everyone looked up, and some of the people of looked with excited expectations. A Hobbit jumped up the stage and looked about, grinning with white teeth. He was Drogo, one of the many Hobbits from the Baggins family.

_There's an inn of old renown_

Laughter came up as the Hobbit stopped and looked about, eyes twinkling in the light. There were cheers as many of the smiths raised their cups, encouraging him to continue.

_Where they brew a beer so brown_

Scattered laughter came as the Hobbit paused dramatically and looked about again.

"Oh continue on, will you!" A shout came from one of the clusters of Hobbits at Thranduil's left, eliciting more laughter. This time, when the Hobbit sang, the words came rapidly, and flowed freely.

_Moon came rolling down the hill_

_One Hevensday night to drink his fill._

Just then one of the Elves jumped up nimbly on the stage and when he turned, Thranduil saw to his surprise that it was none other than Maglor himself, teeth flashing white in the light as he grinned.

_On a three-stringed fiddle there_

_Played the Ostler's cat so fair_

_The hornéd Cow that night was seen_

_To dance a jig upon the green._

A chorus erupted, many of the Hobbits hopping onto some of the rocks that were flat on the top surface. Celegorm joined his brother on the stage, throwing his arm around his shoulders. He looked around and saw Maedhros grinning, his wife resting her head on his shoulder, laughing behind her hand.

_Called by the fiddle to the_

_Middle of the muddle where the_

_Cow with a caper sent the _

_Small dog squealing._

_Moon in a fuddle went to_

_Huddle by the griddle but he_

_Slipped in a puddle and the_

_World went reeling._

Hands clapped with the tune as it sped up and many more joined the silly song. Laughter rose up, nearly drowning the singing, and many more got up and danced light jigs with the song. Then the songs shifted, each merrier than the first. And Maglor joined most of them. Realizing he had not seen his father since the feast, he looked about until he spotted that some of the Elves had managed to sit on the large barrels to see more clearly. Among some of the Elves, Oropher was seated and even he was smiling as he listened.

He stayed there to enjoy the merrymaking, his wife beside him, until the moon was nearly setting, and Arodien drifted off to sleep. Many of the Hobbits and Elves were wandering away, talking amongst themselves, and a single voice now rose up. He turned his head, trying to catch a glimpse of the singer but he found no sign of him. the voice was carrying, probably meaning that the Elf singing, for no one else could have a voice so fair, was further than he thought. He threw his cloak over his wife's frame and carefully lifted her up in his arms.

"Noldolantë," Celegorm said, appearing beside him. Arodien stirred and the Elf glanced at her before speaking again, this time in a lower voice. "Maglor sometimes sings it, when he wishes to."

"Master of Beast," Thranduil said.

"What?"

Thranduil blinked.

"I… am sorry. I do not know why I said it."

Celegorm regarded him seriously for a moment. In the starlight, Celegorm's light seemed to burn brighter, his nearly white hair shining slightly with the light coming from the stars and his eyes almost pale as he regarded him and then glanced down at Thranduil's hands around his sleeping wife. Thranduil did not doubt that the Elf sought the hand that adorned Húro.

"It seems I had underestimated the true extent of my brother and nephew's abilities." Celegorm said at last. "I must commend them. I had not expected this from the Ring." Celegorm paused. "It frightens me."

"Can the Noldor be frightened?"

Celegorm smiled.

"I was." He said, "When your father killed me."

Celegorm said nothing more and Thranduil was relieved for the silence.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

I forgot. O.O' Thanks to Morning Misty's review that made me realize that I had not update for nearly two weeks. Sorry guys. But I hope the 5K words were worth it.

I tend to forget, so if you see this story has not been updated for a week since the last update, howl my ear off because I usually wouldn't remember to update.

**Concepts:**

1. I really hope nobody thought that the meeting with Maedhros would be all cuddles and rainbows, because fact is a fact. The sons of Feanor killed, and they did it readily because of the Oath. They do regret it but pain is hard to be forgotten and imagine the killer of your family moving about scot-free. It is enough to make anyone's blood boil.

2. Also, I wanted to keep the idea that the Noldor were not the kind to be trifled with. They are well-established on Tol Antane. They have killed before. I wanted to keep them as someone who are still very, very dangerous.

3. Also, you might be noting the eeriness of how something bad happens in one place and there is something fun in the other. The story, mainly seen from Thranduil's view, will be seen from only one dimension.

**Others:**

Anyway, happy winter holidays to everyone. Save me some cake and cookies!

Thank you Johnna for reviewing!

Keep me posted, you guys!

**I forgot, **I have like over 70 viewers from Pakistan. I want to extend my condolences to the brutal killings of your children. No, I did not listen to CNN. I am sorry for what this war on terror has cost you and I hope in time, the pain heals and the heart lightens and the ones who did this were brought to a just punishment.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_Second Kinslaying,_

_Doriath,_

_First Age._

_Smoke rose, nearly blinding them in the dark of the night. Blood was flowing freely at their feet and it was only their armour and their wits to use their blades that kept them alive._

"_Father, come! There is nothing left here for us!"_

_The ground shook as one of the burning buildings fell, scattering burning debris around it. It blinded them in smoke and the fires rose higher. And out of the fires came a new wave of assault. The one leading them was dressed in chain mail, the shirt of the mail golden in colour, with the symbol of a jewel set in two concentric rings threaded into the cloth. The symbol of the Fëanorians. A pair of fey pale grey eyes glittered in rage from the slits in the helm. The rest of the face was not visible, the mask beaten in the helm gruesome to look upon, meant to frighten others._

"_Where is it?" From their clothing and armour, it was clear that both Thranduil and Oropher were ranking officers as well as nobles. And Celegorm remembered Thranduil well from their encounter long ago._

"_I do not know." Thranduil said. "We are not the ones holding it from you. Leave us be!"_

"_I cannot," Celegorm said simply before letting out a guttural cry and lunging forward. Thranduil was pushed out of the way, and he fell to the ground. Dazed, he looked up, seeing his father lock swords with Celegorm._

"_Father, no!"_

_But Oropher was grieving. The loss of his wife, the loss of his city, his family, everything he knew, and it was channelled into each strike of his sword. Thranduil watched in horror, as the two opponents went for each other, matching strike for strike, each blade trying to find an opening in the other. Celegorm had sneered before, but now he too fought for his life. There was brutal, unleashed strength behind each swipe of Oropher's sword. And Oropher was too far gone with grief and anger._

_Thranduil refused to stand back and watch. He lost his mother but he would not lose his father to this evil. He grabbed hold of burning debris, a piece of wood burning like a torch and swung it at Celegorm. The sudden appearance of something bright and hot in the corner of his eye instinctively made Celegorm step back, providing Oropher with an opening. Oropher kicked the Elf in his abdomen, making him lean forward and brought down his sword on Celegorm's side of the neck._

"_For my wife," Oropher hissed in the Elf's ear as he fell to the ground. Oropher and Thranduil stepped back. Oropher turned, unaware of the new danger._

"_Father!"_

_Celegorm, with the last burst of energy, unsheathed his dagger and embedded into Oropher's side. Oropher cried out in pain, face distorting with it._

"_I will take you with me," Celegorm spoke from the blood welling up from his throat, before falling to the ground, body convulsing in the death throes. It did not matter. Thranduil gave him no attention as he raced to his father._

"Thranduil!"

Arodien lay beside him. His chest was heaving as he gulped in the fresh cool air coming from the open windows. Arodien's hand moved calmly through his hair, soothing him until he finally relaxed. His shirt clung to him, his head throbbing dully, making it known to him that it was Húro that summoned up the memory.

"What was it?"

"The Second Kinslaying," Thranduil said. "I watched my father kill Celegorm as we made our escape. He was wounded in return, a wound that would have taken my father's life."

"You never had such dreams."

"No, you are right. I did not."

He nudged his wife closer, till she placed her head on his shoulder and abandoned brushing her fingers through his hair.

"Do you want me to sing?"

"Please."

oOo

_The Keep,_

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

_Galadriel crying beside a grave…_

Thranduil slammed on his back against the ground, groaning when his body protested about the impact.

"You have become terrible." Oropher said, towering over him, his practice sword in his hand. "You are not in shape enough for sword play, your stance is horrifying, your defence is appalling and-"

"And I have not even gotten to the offense." Thranduil remarked. Oropher rapped him sharply with the blunt tip of his practice sword on Thranduil's clavicle, making him grimace.

"Keep your smart mouth shut." Oropher said sternly. "I am disappointed in you." Thranduil got up and eyed his own practice sword, skidded far from him when Oropher had disarmed him. Oropher gestured at Thranduil, who was shirtless. "Look at you. You have been lax here. There is no muscle build, though you have managed to keep fit in this food-dominant world-"

"I know-"

"You are going to be trained every day." Oropher said, jabbing his chest with his index finger. "You will regain your former strength and you will regain your former skill with the blade or so help me I will have you spend mornings-" Oropher stopped and tilted his head as he thought, obviously regarding and discarding many ideas before coming to one, "You will spend your mornings with women if you do not… 'man up'."

"Jimmy shouldn't teach you modern phrases." Thranduil muttered when Oropher turned away.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Thranduil said hastily. A loving father Oropher certainly was, but he did not tolerate mistakes or breaches in discipline. And Oropher held true to his threats, a younger Thranduil could immediately relate to. Thranduil also knew that while Oropher's threats sounded amusing and absurd, at the time, it was nothing of the sort if he ever carried them out.

The practicing wing was built into the mountain, and it was complete. Spare weapons were placed neatly in metal weapon stands, and there was everything from melee combat to practicing long-range weapons. All the rooms were sectioned by clear, bullet-proof glass. A set of rooms opened off from here, which served as locker rooms and showers. Both Elves headed there and after they refreshed themselves, they moved outside. The entrance was on high ground, so the Red Hills was stretched out in front of them. It was near noon and the Hobbits were about, laughing and chatting as they worked in the fields.

"They haven't changed." Thranduil said. "It is as if these Hobbits are stopped in time and all of us have moved on."

"Maedhros said that when Arda changed its face, the Men became increasingly hostile to the Hobbits and invited them to join the island. The Hobbits agreed and here they are. The lack of a changing environment kept them the way they were."

"Hobbits never liked change." Thranduil said. "It is understandable."

"Thought I hear they can surprise you."

Thranduil thought about good old Bilbo Baggins, shivering in water and covered in a blanket, with a mithril coat covering his chest and an Elven dagger by his side. It had been the strangest, funniest and most absurd sight Thranduil ever witnessed.

"They can." Thranduil said.

They made their way back to the Forges and asked for any of the Lords who were free. They were directed to Amrod, who was found in an open, widely built room, dressed in dark blue clothing as he lounged on a chair with his feet resting on a table, a laptop in his lap.

"What are you doing?" Thranduil asked curiously, bending over Amrod's shoulder to look.

"Making some plans for your city in Redwood." Amrod answered. Then he glanced at him, looking wary. "I know I am taking too many liberties, by designing your home before taking your permission," Amrod said. "But the plans are pretty rough, meant to finish and tidy as it progresses. You can change it as you place but I assume you intend to keep it with as much modern technology as possible. That is just my main focus so that I can estimate how many materials we will need."

"How long will it take to make it all?"

"Well, I would say roughly five years-"

"Make it two," Maedhros said, appearing behind Thranduil. Amrod looked stunned.

"Two years?" Amrod repeated. "There is no way this could be done in two years!"

"Skyscrapers are being launched and built completely in a matter of such-"

"This is a complete city, Maedhros! Not just one skyscraper! There is no way I could possibly-"

"If we have enough people, it is very much possible." Maedhros said firmly. "I want as many Dwarves and as many Elves we could spare working on the project and I want it done in a matter of two years."

"You will need them for yourself," Thranduil said. "Giving me almost everyone will leave you with none."

"I would rather have that than be the only one with a solid stronghold standing here in Arda. We have waited long enough. The Enemy will have you completely wiped off the face of the Earth if we do not provide you with some defensive city. And there is another reason," Maedhros turned to Thranduil. "The airbase of the Fellowship in Greenland has been hit."

"Hit?" Thranduil repeated. "By who?"

"We are not really sure. But the gas pipelines ran throughout the airbase, and someone lit an open gas leak. Gas caught fire, there was an explosion and the underground buildings took fire through the pipelines. Nobody inside survived. They did find an Elf lying outside in the snow that was still a little alive and took him in immediately. I only gathered his name was Haldir." Thranduil's throat tightened. "We also found remains of a body beside the place where the leak started and it belonged to Man. We are investigating more but at the moment Haldir is being shifted here for Amras to treat him."

"When did this happen?"

"Yesterday evening. I found out last night but I did not think it necessary to tell anyone until I had satisfactory information." Maedhros said. "I got the news he was being shifted in the morning. He should be here in a matter of few hours. At the moment, Celegorm is keeping in touch with his Hunters in Greenland, who are investigating the cause."

They passed through a corridor, where one side of it was open. One could see the lower levels if he or she looked down over the balcony and also a corridor opposite to the one they were walking in. Thranduil saw Glaweth, heedless to them, his own wife walking beside her. The Noldorin lady had two large hounds padding behind her, as well as two able-bodied Ellyn, both of them heavily armed marching behind the two Ellyth at a respectable distance. It struck as odd to Thranduil for Maedhros' wife to have such heavy guard. Arodien certainly did not have them, since all the time while she was alone, there were no guards about her.

"Do you fear treachery among your own people that you assign your wife such security?" Thranduil asked, turning his head to Maedhros. The Noldo glanced at him and then across the balcony, spotting his wife disappear as she turned inside.

"Normally, she had none." Maedhros said. "But certain reasons made it impossible for her to go anywhere without one."

"Certain reasons?" Oropher asked, raising his brows. Then he frowned. "You... no blood have been spilled from among your loved ones." Maedhros' lips tightened into a thin line.

"Yes." Maedhros said. "My mother has been given the same protocol."

Maedhros led them into a room, where Glorfindel and Maglor were already waiting. Thranduil did not doubt the pair were the least happy of being coupled into one room.

"Where is Celegorm?"

"He is collecting the last of the reports and said to continue without him and he will join us later." Maglor responded.

"What I wanted to discuss with you is the idea of helping you in making your city here in this forest." Maedhros said, sitting done. Others seated as well. "The forest has a mountain range of its own, and Oromë may have chosen the place for precisely that reason."

"I would be able to build outside settlements as well as a fortress into the mountains, yes."

"Let us focus on the fortress within the mountains first, since it will be your main defence." Maedhros said. "The Dwarves will be willing to help, both the ones we have here as well as the ones in Russia. With their help, it will progress much faster than we would without them. The trouble actually lies in fitting in modern technology into the city outline, and it will take the most time while the rest, like decorations and such will take less time. If we have enough manpower, it will also lessen the time."

"That is," Maglor said. "Nothing toward happens."

"At the moment, let us consider the possibility of nothing happening." Maedhros said. "With the new ships coming, I will assume the city planners will be coming in as well."

"And the question lies in how I will be able to repay you." Thranduil said. Maedhros and Maglor both smiled.

"We have so much money that we do not know what to do with them." Maedhros said. "It is not us that you should worry about."

"But there is something you want from me." Thranduil said forward, resting his arms on the table. "What is it?" He looked at one Fëanorian and then to another.

"Alliance," Maedhros said. "I want to know that you will not turn against us once we help finish building this city of yours."

"How will I know that you will not double cross me and try to make my city of materials easily broken?"

An uncomfortable silence stretched out.

"Do you really have that little faith in us?" Maedhros asked softly.

"Well, since we were speaking so frankly, I thought it best to voice my doubts." Thranduil said, leaning back in his seat. "And let us not forget that your brothers tried to usurp your own kin when he was absent from his kingdom during the Silmarillion. I want to know if you are really reliable."

"All of us intend to survive the coming war, Thranduil Oropherion." Maedhros said. "And we will invest where we could to make that happen. And we are bounded by an Oath. The Valar are the people we are alliance to. If you are their allies as well, we will help you." Maedhros inclined his head. "I can assure you, we will not double-cross you."

The door opened, interrupting them.

"I am back." Celegorm said, sitting heavily on his seat. "And you will not be happy with the news I have."

"It can't be worse than what I imagined." Maedhros said.

"It was not the Enemy." Celegorm said. "The Hunters say there was no indication our Enemy even knew where the airbase was and that the pipeline was definitely tampered with. It was not accidental."

"Are you saying that it was an inside job?"

"I am saying it was done on purpose and it was obviously done to finish off the entire airbase." Celegorm said. "And they did it. Except for the Elf on the surface, everyone else inside did not have a chance. The parts of the underground buildings that did not catch fire were locked in and suffocated instead. The Hunters also said that they think it was strange when the Greenland government resisted when the Hunters asked to investigated." Everyone looked up at that.

"Really?" Maedhros asked. "Are you sure?"

"Completely," Celegorm said. "And this airbase was unmapped, which meant the only ones who knew the airbase personally will know their way around and guess who would know?"

"Greenland military," Maedhros said. "This is all just speculation-"

"We wouldn't think so once we take a look of the survivor's wounds. What's his name- Haldir?" At Oropher and Thranduil's nod, Celegorm flicked his wrist as he asked, "Who is he?"

"He once led the wardens of Lórien long ago when Celeborn and Artanis ruled over that land." Thranduil said. "He is an able Elf, and trustworthy like a rock. He kept to his duties and was content in them, from what I recall."

"I want someone to go to Greenland, and a second for USA." Maedhros said. "Maglor, what do you think of America?"

"Self-absorbed and trend-obsessed."

"Maglor."

"You asked me what I thought and here it is."

"regardless, you are going."

"You would send a biased Elf to a country he is biased about?"

"Well, then, let us make it simple." Maedhros dug into his pocket. "Coin toss?" Maedhros asked, holding up a coin for all to see.

"I always lose." Maglor said. Maedhros raised a brow and kept the coin up. "Fine," Maglor relented. "But I know I will lose. Heads."

Maedhros flipped the coin in the air and caught it before placing it on the back of his other hand.

"Tails," Maedhros said, lips breaking into a barely suppressed smile. "You take the States. Celegorm?"

"No thanks," Celegorm answered, rising from his seat. "I will spare myself the embarrassment. I will take UK."

"Greenland."

"UK."

"Greenland."

"UK."

"Think of it this way, all that is gold does not-"

"-Glitter," Celegorm completed, sighing, "Fine, I will take Greenland."

"Good. Anything else?"

"I hate you. Who is taking UK?"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that." Maedhros said, flipping the coin across his knuckles. "Thranduil will have his allies, all of whom I am sure, waiting for him in London."

"I shouldn't have taken the toss." Maglor said. They heard a phone buzz and Maedhros dug into his pocket.

"It doesn't matter, since he got his way." Celegorm replied.

"Haldir is here," Maedhros announced. "He is being settled in by Amras and his team. That is all I know for now. He said he will speak to me once everything is sorted out. At the moment, let us discuss something else."

"Like what?"

"Monique," Maedhros said.

"My Hunters say they will be able to corner her soon in two days' time. The trap has been laid but it will be difficult to explain her disappearance."

"I do not care." Maedhros answered. "I want her here. Besides, they will not be able to find her location once she enters the island. And she will not be able to leave it until I give permission."

"What about Riley and his family? The Man with his wife and two sons that came on Aeglos with me?" Thranduil asked.

"At the moment they are in the capital. I advised them that that was the safest place. His sons are given lessons and the parents are well cared for."

"Riley was never the type to sit still," Thranduil said, shaking his head.

"You are welcome to take him off my hands once you have your kingdom. In the meantime he stays where he is so that we can focus on other matters."

"Like this 'Kate' I keep hearing about," Maglor said. "If this girl is the direct lineage of Aragorn, then we should consider training her properly. We should bring her here."

"Or we can look for a male heir among the second line." Glorfindel said. But the rest of them shook their heads.

"Times have changed." Maedhros said. "Women here have as much of a role as Men. She is every inch capable of taking up the position. Train her so that she can defend herself."

"Absolutely not," Maglor retorted. "I will not train someone who has no brains. That is like placing a grenade in a room full of explosives. Give her the proper education the proper way or it will all be for naught!"

"I wouldn't underestimate her if I were you." Celegorm said. "She has a college degree and she has studied politics throughout. And her IQ level is good, better than I had expected. It is 170." Celegorm raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Well, I would say she is frightened and confused at the best. This is a little too much to take in, considering we are not supposed to exist."

"You know that you are considered a work of fiction?" Thranduil asked, inclining his head.

"Oh yes." Celegorm answered. "It is satisfying to see people wonder over my hair, Maedhros' 'inclinations towards gender'" Maedhros scowled at that, "And Maglor's possibility to live on-"

"Which I did," Maglor said. "Back to the girl."

"Ah, yes. As I was saying, I do not think we need to teach her much at all when it comes to politics except let her know the accurate goings on of history from us and then teach her how to fight."

"And who will do that?"

"Well, I am sure Alice would be happy enough to take in an apprentice."

"Of course she will, and by that you mean that you are going to push an apprentice at her."

"Well, she did say she wanted to test her abilities further." Celegorm said. "In any case, we will have to start her training immediately so that she is at least only poor in fighting than appalling."

"You put hard criteria on your trainees."

"That is what keeps them alive."

A cell phone buzzed. Maedhros pulled out his cell phone.

"In any event," Glorfindel said who had been quite throughout the discussion. "Her training will have to be held with someone who is capable of overseeing her training day and night. Assign it to someone that fits the category. Changing masters will be unhealthy for her."

"I will look into it." Celegorm said formally and Glorfindel nodded stiffly in return.

"Amras wants to speak to us." Maedhros said. "Come on. Let us see what the damage is."

oOo

_London,_

_Britain,_

"Who cannot like Brits?" Hanon said, grinning as he pulled his backpack over his shoulder.

"So polite and courteous," Noron agreed.

"Let's see how much of that stays once they realize we intend to make a home in Redwood whether they like it or not." Hanon said, mirth disappearing.

"Hanon-"

Hanon turned to look where Noron was gesturing. He saw, to a shock that nearly caused him to lose his hold over his backpack, two 'men', both of them looking 'young' standing across the street in smart navy blue suits.

"What are they doing here?"

"They might be the reason for that tremble we felt in the earth." Noron said.

"Come on." They crossed the street and approached the two Maia.

"Radagast, Mithrandir," Hanon said greeting each. "I had not expected either of you to be here."

"Well, we did expect you." Mithrandir said, nodding at them warmly. "You have not changed a bit, Hanon, though the hair could be longer and the tips of ears much more angled."

"We needed to fit in." Hanon said, shifting the strap of the backpack higher.

"Are you here to help us with Redwood?" Noron asked, reminding them all of their missions.

"You will accomplish nothing by going to Redwood," Mithrandir said, clasping his hands behind his back. "Your role should be here, at first. You need to have complete control of the forest and to do that you will need to speak to the head of these lands in the first place, in order to allow complete control of bringing in military goods, establishing trades, and forming alliances. You need to emerge as a separate country."

"Yavanna told me that the Queen here is nothing but a figurehead." Radagast said thoughtfully as he stroked his beard. "She will be of no use to us then."

"The people here will not allow it." Hanon said. "If we plan this, we must plan it carefully then. A single misstep can lead to chaos at a large level."

"Your king will be travelling here soon enough." Mithrandir said. "We will plan the rest with him. Our purpose was to waylay you before you head over to the forest."

"So if you have no intention of meeting the Queen, then who exactly will you ask audience of?"

"No, not the queen," Mithrandir said. "We need to speak with the Prime Minister himself."

oOo

_The Forges,_

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

The patient lying face down on the hospital bed was nowhere near recognizable. His back was exposed to them, a terrible mass of charred skin; exposed reddened burned wounds were for all to see. He did not doubt the place would be full of stench of flesh and fire. Haldir was unconscious, his hair cropped to his head, a side of his face covered with salve, facing towards the camera.

"He needed heavy sedatives." Amras said, appearing in the camera view. "He woke once or twice, and the pain was too great. We will keep him under the sedatives until he is capable of bearing the pain."

"What are his injuries?" Thranduil asked.

"His right side of the face is lightly burned, but it is not something that time won't heal. The back of his legs have burns that will scar, but there will be no need for amputation. His back is the part of his body that has the most serious of injuries. We will have lined up surgeries for him, and we will continue the treatment as long as he is able-"

"You are not telling me something." Thranduil interrupted. Amras took in a deep, calming breath.

"I will not… lie when I say that his condition is very, very serious. He is barely breathing on his own and the pain is too much for him to bear. Also, even if he does survive this, he may be in pain for the rest of his life. The damage to his legs calls for less surgeries but there is a chance that he may not be able to walk at all."

"He will not be able to function in military operations." Legolas said, speaking the words for Amras.

"Yes," Amras nodded. "I would say that."

"How long will this take?"

"I do not know." Amras said. "It will take more than just a couple of months. He is in a very serious condition and I will have to see how much surgeries he could take without it become too much for him."

"Haldir is a fighter," Legolas said. "He will survive."

"But he will have to meet my satisfaction first." Amras said dryly. Behind him, nurses tended to Haldir. "He will not be the first stubborn soldier passing through my Houses insisting he can 'take it', and after a lifetime, or twice a lifetime, of experiences, I know how to deal with them… in my own fashion."

Thranduil was not sure whether or not he wanted to find out what 'his fashion' was. It seemed like others were of the same opinion.

"Is there anything else?" Maedhros asked. When Amras shook his head, Maedhros said, "Go. Keep us posted on his condition."

"I will." Amras promised.

When the call ended, all of them were silent.

"This truly was done on purpose." Maedhros said grimly. He voiced everyone's thoughts, thoughts they had from the beginning when they heard of this matter. "Greenland was obviously willing to help in the beginning-"

"But they didn't know precisely how well the Elves functioned. Men were fine, but Elves, especially with such modern weaponry, were dangerous. They felt that they had started a clock they could not stop."

"And what better way than to blow up the entire airbase, and bury the evidence in the explosion?" Thranduil finished. Silence followed.

"This is full strike on the Elves." Maglor said. "We have to move. This has happened for another reason. They knew they could get away with it. The Elves there in the base had no lord or superior over them, and they had no lands to take them in or have an alliance with. They knew it was a done deal. If the Elves there had someone to watch their backs, they would have thought twice."

"And it brings us back to our plan." Thranduil said.

"This has no effect on the plan," Oropher said. "Except that we will need to shift the dates closer to one another. Instead of leaving in a week's time, I would say to leave immediately. It will be better this way."

"We will just have to finalize it all then."

oOo

_Alqualondë,_

_Aman._

Thunder rumbled outside, rain steadily pattering against the window-glass of the Palace. He sat alone, the armour weighing heavily on his body, the throne beside his shrouded in a sheer black cloth.

The throne room was as grey as the sorrow in his heart, and the grief weighed him down like stones do on a scale. Across his knees lay an ornamental spear, the shaft polished black and gleaming in the meagre light. The spearhead was polished and sharpened for use, and a ribbon was where the head met the shaft, the black sable easily visible on the white ribbon.

When morning would come, Olwë would have it put away and he would silently vow to use it on a suitable target, if the time comes.

When the time comes.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Thanks to Morning Mist, Guest and Guest for their reviews!

And thanks to everyone who had author faved and followed as well as done it for separate stories. Here is a little New Year's gift.

Enjoy your holidays and leave me a review!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_What they call Area 51,_

_USA,_

"What exactly am I looking here?" Dorián asked, trying not to sound annoyed. He was staring at nothing at a middle of nowhere.

"Just wait," his guide said for the hundredth time. "You will see."

"You said there was a base here. I see no base."

"Just wait."

It took them another half an hour to see what the guide meant. Something moved and it took Dorián a moment to realize that the thing was a metallic trapdoor leading to an underground base. Then he saw two Men-no, Elves come out of it. In the noontime sun, he immediately recognized one of them.

"That-that's," he sputtered, peering. Then his eyes widened when he saw it to be none other than his own father by marriage. "Himben! Why, that nasty little snake is going to get a skinning if I had my own way!" But Dorián was a well-seasoned spy. He knew he could not jeopardize his own mission for something personal. The other Elf standing beside him was bent, his hair black as night and his skin exceedingly pale. He made note of his features, wondering if he could find someone to recognize him; he certainly looked important.

"We have to report this." Dorián said, starting to crawl away.

"Wait," the Man said, stopping the Elf. "There is more. You will have to wait to see it. Trust me that is important too."

As night fell, Dorián understood what the guide meant.

When the stars began to shine, the solid ground no longer appeared to be solid. It seemed to be in some form of liquid, and he saw lights floating over the surface. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of it. The liquid was clear like water, and it had seeped out to welcome the darkness. But the 'water' occasionally splashed, as if something was moving inside it.

"Valar beyond," Dorián breathed. "They tried to- that's impossible… they tried to recreated the Dead Marshes!"

"I thought that was a myth," the Man whispered to him.

"Oh, no, they are very much real… but to what purpose?" The last part was Dorián's own musing. After a moment of silence, Dorián made sure that nothing moved before getting up into a crouch.

"Come on." He said. "Let us go and see what that is."

"That? But if it is like the Dead Marshes then we already know what is in there!"

"Precisely; but I want to know if it is like the Dead Marshes or not." Dorián said.

The man did not look too happy, but he was trained to follow orders. So he lurked behind Dorián's frame as they quietly made their way towards the Marshes.

The Dead Marshes were lit by strange, eerie glow coming from the water surface. Up close, he noticed that the liquid was indeed water, but it seemed to work different. This water sought out the darkness of the night, but disappeared in the morning. At night, the water came up and bared the corpses floating in them, and then receded in the morning, taking the corpses with them.

He saw men and women sleeping under the water surface. Their eyes were closed, and their bodies looked like they were preserved. He could see the mortal wounds that took their lives. All of them looked like they were stabbed in the chest. His chest constricted when he spotted some children there too. He did not doubt these were either orphans or missing children. He crept carefully, making sure his feet did not touch the water or even if they did, they did not cause to big a ripple. He was not keen to be pulled into the water to join them, if they truly were the corpses in the Dead Marshes. He spotted some scattered Elves here and there, all of them with the same single stabbing wounds to the chest. He wondered, bending over one Elf, who had a sleeping man on either side, whether these Elves were the traitors who were allied to the Enemy, or were the kidnapped Elves from Aman.

He heard a distinctly loud splash and he whirled his head in alarm. The Man following him looked guilty, one foot still in the water where it had slipped. Dorián turned his head towards the inhabitants of the Marshes, many of them had their eyes wide open and staring at him. He moved to the side and he could have sworn their eyes moved with him. It pricked his senses, an uncomfortable feeling crawling over his skin.

"We have to move back," Dorián hissed. "Retreat! I do not like this." Nausea rose in his throat when he saw one of the corpses literally tilt her head, following his footsteps.

The urgency in the Elf's voice did not go unnoticed. The guide quickly retraced his steps, Dorián now following him until they quickly ducked behind their initial hiding place. Dorián breathed in deeply, trying to calm his skipping heart before warily looking over the edge of their hiding. The hidden door now opened, light coming from within and what stepped out made Dorián's breathing hitch.

"Curse be upon Sauron's creations!"

"What are they?" The Man whispered, glancing as well.

"Nazgul," Dorián said. "Ringwraiths."

"Ringwraiths! But what should we do?"

Dorián did not answer. The shrouded figure looked shrivelled. His doubts were confirmed when the wraith returned underground without spotting them. A more powerful Ringwraith was harder to fool.

"Nothing," Dorián said. "We needn't worry about them now. They are too young, too weak."

"But Sauron's Ring is destroyed! They cannot answer to it! They are not bound to Sauron!"

"It does not work that way. Once you claim an allegiance to the darkness, you cannot go back on your word. By accepting the Rings of Power from him, they gave him their allegiance and through the Rings of Power they sold him their souls. He did not command them through the Ring, he commanded them through himself. That is why when the Ring was lost, the Ringwraiths were still very much alive in their wraith forms. When the Ring was found, they were strengthened by Sauron to find the Ring. Their true powers would have come when the Ring found its way back on its master's hand. When the Ring was destroyed, they were thrown into the Void. They were too corrupted for anything else."

"The Door of Night must have crumbled greatly to allow them through."

"Not as much as you think. The Door has crumbled and will continue to crumble, but that is beside the point. You see, compared to the servants Morgoth commanded, the Ringwraiths are nothing but toys for Sauron to play with. They are nothing more than pawns on a large chessboard, easily disposable and easily replaced. Even with their full strength, they will be nothing compared to the terrors Morgoth will have. There are souls in the Void, souls much large than that of these wraiths. I doubt the Door of Night had crumbled to allow them through."

"Souls like what?"

Dorián was about to answer before they heard a piercing scream. Both of them recoiled, the sound as horrific as hundreds of spears splintering against shields. And then the ground shook violently and in the starlight, great beast with long, cylindrical bodies emerged from the ground, throwing the earth in their wake. The surface of the Dead Marshes rippled from the vibrations and displaced earth and rocks. These newcomers resembled worms in large size, their mouths guarded by large tentacles and fortified by numerous rows of teeth.

"Like earth-eaters," Dorián said weakly.

oOo

_The Keep,_

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

He decided to join Jimmy, Miranda and Jason in the evening break. The moment he sat down with them, he knew something was wrong. The air was tense, stretched between all four of them so tight that he could cut it with a knife. It was clear he had either interrupted something or came just after an argument took place. "Should I leave?" Thranduil asked after a pause.

"What? No," Jason said firmly.

"Trust me, it is not related to you." Miranda said sourly.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at them.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Miranda said.

"You are," Thranduil glanced at Jimmy before continuing, "All behaving strange."

"There is trouble in the love nest," Jason muttered at him.

"There is no trouble in the love nest!" Miranda snapped. Jason winced. Thranduil blinked.

"Calm down." Jason snapped. Miranda huffed, getting up from her seat and angrily making her way to the door. She paused and whirled about. Jimmy got up and followed her to the door.

"THERE IS NOT EVEN A LOVE NEST!"

"Come on, Miranda," Jimmy said tiredly. "Let's just go."

Miranda turned around and glared at Jimmy who scowled back before stomping away. Jimmy sighed wearily before following her.

"What happened?" Thranduil asked once he was alone with Jason.

"I have no idea." Jason said. "They came to breakfast the morning after you left with your little field trip with Maedhros and they were like that the whole time since."

"You think Jimmy made a move?"

"Ah, if he did, then he might have just mentioned his feelings as gently as he could. I know he acts weird around Miranda but he is a very gentle soul underneath the bravado."

"That would explain why Dorián sticks around him still." Thranduil now narrowed his eyes at Jason. "Are you alright? You seem a little pale."

"I am fine," Jason said dryly. "Don't turn all Elfy at me."

"Elfy?"

"A term Miranda came up with when Elves look at someone with scrutinizing eyes."

"I don't know." Thranduil said, narrowing his eyes further. "There is something you are hiding, isn't there?"

"Look," Jason said, uncrossing his legs and sitting forward, elbows on his knees. "I can promise you it has nothing to do with the operation. It is something personal. And do not worry about me. You will find out soon enough. And promise me… promise me you won't tell Miranda?"

"Why?"

"I will tell her myself."

"Fine," Thranduil relented. Jason was telling the truth, though it confused Thranduil how he knew. "But if whatever this is goes south, then I am telling."

Later, he found that he was not the only one who noticed that Jason was hiding something. He was waylaid by his son.

"Does Jason look… sick to you?" Legolas asked, touching his father's elbow with his hand.

Thranduil glanced over his shoulder. Jason was coming out of one of the corridors, oblivious to the two Elves standing on the corridors just above his, staring down at him through the glass floor. Now that Legolas mentioned it, Jason did look sick. His face had an unhealthy pallor, and his eyes seemed to have sunk in. He looked tired, as if he had not slept well.

"And I will bet Jimmy had noticed all of this a long time ago." Thranduil said grimly. The Man who tried his best to act like a comic relief was keen-eyed when it came to his medical field.

"I intend to know what it is." Legolas said seriously, turning to leave.

"No," Thranduil said, stopping him in his tracks. "What Jason does to himself is his own business and we cannot meddle into his affairs-"

"But-"

"You and I both know that Jimmy already knows. If he does and they did not tell us, then it means that it is not something to worry about. We already have larger things to be concerned about. We will speak of this later, when things come to some semblance of normal."

Legolas gazed at him seriously before nodding.

"You are right. We cannot pursue this right now. Let us wait for a later time."

oOo

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

_Arwen standing beside her husband… Dior's sons, fully armed and ready… A large weapon of length of several feet… Oropher grieving beside a body in black shroud… Galadriel crying beside the grave of her husband…Arodien dancing in a clearing, laughter ringing throughout the woods… the Dwarves mining deep into the mountain…Plains stretching out in front of him, his boots sinking in the blood-soaked earth, the killings around him animalistic, immoral and brutal…Sauron looming over him, his blade raised for a killing stroke…_

He woke with a snarl, blindly grabbing his assailant and throwing him on his back. His one hand clamped around his throat, crushing his windpipe, while the other looked for a knife.

He found none.

Suddenly he realized it had been years since he had travelled with only his father after the Sacking of Doriath and found himself at Greenwood the Great. He was in a warm bed, with blankets tangled about him. His hand clamped around his wife's throat.

He immediately pulled freely, shuffling back in horror. Arodien turned around, curling into herself. Her breath came in loud ragged gasps echoing in the room.

"Armes!" He touched her shoulder with a trembling hand. "Armes-"

"I am fine," her voice was hoarse. He immediately got out of bed, and quickly filled a glass of water before going back and giving it to her. She took it gratefully, downing the glass in quick gulps.

"Arodien-"

"I am fine." She repeated, setting the glass on the bedside table before pushing back her black hair. Thranduil was not assured. He gently tilted her chin upwards, and noticed the angry bruises formed over her pale skin. He gently rubbed her throat with his fingertips. The bruising will remain, he knew with regret. But the damage was shattering to him. He had never, in his sleep, or in his anger, ever harmed his beloved wife. They had their squabbles and petty arguments but he thankfully always knew how to control himself. But to harm his mate in his sleep- it was something he could never forgive himself for doing.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when she quietly drew out his grasp. She placed her hands on his cheeks. "I am fine." She repeated. "You… pulled back just in time."

"Just in time?" He could not believe what he was hearing! Arodien sounded much calmer than he felt! "This should have never happened in the first place! Arodien-"

"Armes," she corrected.

"This was unforgivable. I could have stayed put. I could have-"

"Killed me?" She asked softly after he trailed after. Hearing no reply from him, she sighed and prodded him to come close. They lay side by side.

"What were you dreaming of?" She asked in the silence.

"I dreamt so many things… I do not remember."

"Then start with the one that remember the most."

"I dreamt that I was standing in a land full of darkness." Thranduil began. "The sky was dark and there was this chaos around me. I saw Men killing each other, Orcs coming upon us. I saw Elves killing one another and there were trolls everywhere." He rubbed his eyes. His trembling had eased somewhat. "The ground was slick with blood. And the armies of the Enemy were overwhelming us."

"What else?" Arodien asked, dreading his answer. Thranduil fell silent for so long that she turned her head to look at him, thinking he fell asleep. But Thranduil was awake, with a shy smile on his face.

"I saw you, dancing with other Ellyth in a clearing. The stars shone above us, and the Elves were laughing and merry."

"Was it a glimpse of the past?"

"No, I think it has not yet happened." Thranduil answered. "Because Legolas was full-grown and Nimdir was standing beside him."

"And?"

"I saw people, different people. Some of them I recognized. Some were pieces of the past-" Thranduil rubbed his forehead. "It was confusing to say the least."

"You should sleep."

"Armes, I swear I would never hurt you."

"Hush. I know. Go to sleep."

She stroked his hair in soothing movements, singing softly. Thranduil felt his eyes close. He was tired. Only when Thranduil fell into blissful sleep did her voice falter and she looked down at Húro with loathing.

oOo

_The Keep,_

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

They had to leave before dawn the next day for the harbour. They broke the meeting early in the night, so that Maedhros and others could make arrangements and the rest to go and get some rest. Before they retired for the night, Legolas and Thranduil decided to go for a short walk. The Forges were full of heat but the smiths managed to channel it through vents and clean it through different machinery to a different part in the mountain. Here, there was a network of indoor gardens, with winding staircases, and statues of brass and copper amid the greenery. Artificial light streamed down from above and the weather was only pleasantly warm. Wooden benches with decorated metallic backs scattered throughout the gardens and there were vein-like streams passing through their path.

"Nimdir did not get married." Legolas said.

"Yes, father told me."

"You are not disappointed?"

"I am surprised." Thranduil conceded. "But that grandchild of mine has made many changing decisions. This may not be any different."

"I am a little disappointed." Legolas said. "I was so sure he was going to marry."

"Father said he went to Tol Eressëa alone soon after you left." Thranduil said. "But he came back much earlier than he was expected and he was not in his usual high spirits."

"You are saying the girl rejected him?"

"I am saying it may not have gone as well as Nimdir had planned." Thranduil said. "And added with the unrest there and everything else, it might have been too much for her to wed anyone. Do not worry," Thranduil quirked a smile. "The Ellyn of our family tend to settle in. After all, we have your example."

Legolas, who had been unwed for the two Ages of his life and then wed his wife in Aman, nudged his father lightly, causing him to chuckle.

"Did you and mother ever have fights?" Legolas asked suddenly. Thranduil started in surprise and regarded his son.

"From time to time," Thranduil said warily.

"How serious were they?"

Thranduil exhaled heavily.

"Well, there was a petty fight soon after we were wed. It was what father called 'lovers' first quarrel'. She wanted to change the setting of our bedroom. A ridiculous thing to argue about, now that I think about it. We had differences of opinion now and then but the most serious fight that was there would probably be the one your mother and I had when it came to finding you a wife."

"Was it on Életh?"

"_Aye," _Thranduil said softly, memory forcing him back into their tongue. _"Your mother was not happy with our choice. She said that we were forcing our pride and grudges upon you so that you would not wed the one you loved. She was right."_

"_Sauron was to be blamed for that. That matter is long since forgiven."_

"_I know, but it was a fight I most definitely remember."_

"_What happened?"_

"_We… might have taken it too far." _Thranduil was reluctant to discuss it, not wanting his son to worry. _"She might have thrown something at me and I might have broken something in her presence in my rage."_

Legolas turned to his father with a newfound alarm which Thranduil immediately rushed to sooth. He had never seen either of his parents lose their temper and what arguments they had, they kept hidden from him. To hear something like this was drastic.

"I regretted it immediately." He said hastily. "I begged for forgiveness for my loss of temper, and she asked for forgiveness for hers. Legolas, when you are married for so long and lived through such pressure and danger as we had then you would know. Every fight brings a couple closer together but to do that they need to let go of their pride and shamelessly ask for forgiveness, even if you are not the one to blame. Your mother and I are very close and I love her so much that I could not bear to see her leave but I had to let her go, for her health. You married in an age of peace, in Valinor, and that is why you do not know. We were both young and inexperienced when it came to marriage, and most of the things we discovered throughout the length of the years. We never had a fight like that before it or after it and we learned from it to simply sit there silently while the other raged or leave the room if one is incapable of keeping silence." Thranduil frowned. Legolas never asked about the condition of his marital status. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Maedhros mentioned how his father and mother were estranged after the Oath was taken-"

Thranduil gripped his son's shoulders tightly, forcing him to look into his eyes.

"Your mother and I love each other dearly." Thranduil said firmly. "I would never let any harm come to her, from myself or anyone else. And let me be very clear that we have had no arguments or fights since we reunited."

"It all started from distancing from others, Maedhros said." Legolas looked at his father squarely. "You never spoke to us of your time here, and not even with mother. You don't tell us what that ring is doing to you."

"I have seen many horrors when I came here." Thranduil said. "I know you have great faith in Men but I have lost most of mine when I returned to Arda Marred."

"Then why did you stay?"

"I did not know how to go back." Thranduil's voice dropped into a whisper. "And the world was so changed. It repulsed me and fascinated me at the same time. And in time, I simply… stayed."

"We waited." Legolas said. "Mother went down to the harbour day after day ever since we heard that the ship was destroyed. It was after Mandos let us know you did not come to his halls and that it was not your time. We thought-"

"I am not Fëanor." Thranduil hissed angrily. He realized precisely what Legolas and others had thought. They knew of the presence of the Fëanorians after all. And coupled with the missing Elves, the unrest in Aman and Thranduil's continued disappearance, Legolas suspected the worse. "Your mother is dear to me and I will not sacrifice my family for something as trivial as Silmarils or anything that may even remotely resemble them in desire." Thranduil softened. He lifted his son's chin, forcing him to look at him, "I would never sacrifice anything I hold close to me. My reasons of leaving Aman and then staying in Arda are difficult for me to explain. In time, I might be able to. But be content by the thought that my love for your mother has not changed even the slightest."

"I gathered that, when we met in New York," Legolas said slowly.

"But you had to ask to be sure." Thranduil finished. At Legolas' nod, he said, "And there is no harm in that." He pulled Legolas into an embrace.

Unbeknownst to them, Maedhros watched them in silence and darkness of the corridor before turning on his heel and leaving.

oOo

_Bullet train,_

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

It was relief to hear that Dorián was well.

"I was beginning to think I needed myself a new spy," Thranduil said, smiling. He heard a youthful chuckle coming from the laptop after Legolas pulled out the earphones.

"I am in one piece, thankfully." Dorián said.

"Where are you?"

"I do not think it is safe to say."

"Did you find what we were looking for?"

Maedhros and Maglor sat side by side on a couch, and Celegorm was leaning against the train wall by the window.

"I did." Dorián's voice was grave. "And I do not have good news."

"What did you see?"

"I do not know precisely what it was but it looked like an underground base in a middle of nowhere. It was classic, but what was more frightening about it was the fact they tried to bring a piece of history into the present."

"How?" Thranduil asked.

"They had these… things. They tried to make the Dead Marshes around the base, and it looked like it was there to act like some form of twisted alarm system. My guide slipped into the water. He is fine, but it brought out some great attention. Sire, the Ringwraiths, they are back."

Silence fell about them.

"Are you sure?" Legolas asked.

"I know what I saw. And there is more. The earth-eaters, they are back as well."

"These Dead Marshes," Maedhros said, shifting in his seat to come closer to the laptop. "What were they filled off? What were the corpses?"

"Who's that?" Dorián asked in length.

"Nobody," Thranduil and Legolas chorused. Maedhros' lips twitched upwards. At the moment neither Thranduil nor Legolas was in any mood to handle yet another confrontation. "At least, nobody of importance at the moment." Thranduil amended. "Answer his question."

"There were corpses of men and women. Some of them were children and some of them looked like Elves but I was not able to get a good look."

"I knew you were an idiot enough to scout the Marshes." Legolas muttered under his breath. Dorián realized he was caught.

"I do not mind." Thranduil said quickly before Dorián could say something in defence. "Anything else?"

"Himben was there."

Thranduil swallowed. He did not forget Wolf's words that Himben had helped with the letters of the Elven word for 'king'.

"Anyone else?"

"Well, there was this Elf standing with Himben. He looked like he was someone important but I did not recognize him."

"Describe him to me." Maedhros said.

"He was tall, but his back was stooped. And he looked like he had the muscles of a smith. He was pale-skinned and black-haired-"

"Eöl!" Celegorm cried. "Why if I get my hands on that twisted, good for nothing, worthless piece of-"

"Who is that?" Dorián asked warily.

"I will tell you everything later." Legolas said wearily. "It was a shock for us as well."

"Well then, who is Eöl?" Dorián asked.

"You forget your history," Maglor said. If Dorián recognized a new voice, he did not say anything. "He was once a thrall living under Morgoth's domain. But he escaped. He hated the light and loved the dark and wedded our cousin Aredhel by force. The Elf was smith, and he had learned both Elven and Dwarven craft. His weapons were exemplary but he had a healthy hatred for my kin."

"Kin? Aredhel, cousin?" Dorián asked, sounding more and more wary. "Legolaaaaaaaas, what trouble did you just get into?"

"Ask father," Legolas answered, earning himself a light cuff on the back of his neck from Thranduil.

"Legolas will explain this to you in a moment, boy." Thranduil said. "Do you know anything of this?" He asked Maedhros. The tall Elf looked thoughtfully, his fingers stroking his chin.

"If he is there, then it would be something concerning his work. So I would say he is there as a smith." Maedhros said slowly. "You say there were these Ringwraiths there, the minions of Sauron after he made the One Ring. They are there to guard something, and that will explain the presence of the earth-eaters. The base could not be seen from above but it needed fortifications underground. The Marshes-" Maedhros suddenly became white, a look of understanding dawning on his face. "Valar," he breathed. "It could not be true."

"What is it?" Maglor asked, frowning.

"Before Morgoth was thrown into the Void, his weapon was taken and shattered into small pieces and thrown away. The legends say it could only be rebuilt when the time of his return came. And to rebuild it they needed to sacrifice souls."

"How come you know this?" Thranduil said.

"The Black Númenóreans," Maedhros said, shaking his head while he pressed a hand on his temple. "They worshipped Morgoth and the darkness. This came from their lore. The souls sacrificed imbue the metal making Morgoth's weapon, and the corpses littered about the weapon protected it while it was still weak and without its master. Eöl-"

"Eöl is a capable smith, able to pour his malice into the weapons he makes and curse them-" Celegorm said. "That thrall has never fully left Morgoth's service!"

"They are making Grond."

Grond. The very name sent shivers down their spines. Grond. It was something from their history books and children's games. The weapon from the Underworld. It was a terror to behold. Few dared to challenge Morgoth while he wielded that weapon.

"The die is cast," Maedhros muttered. "The pieces are in place. Some of them are moving and yet the main players have yet to enter the play. Everything will have to move quickly from our part, before we are outmatched."

"I have to go." Dorián said suddenly. There was urgency in his voice. "I have been found out. I will speak to you later once I come to a more secure location." He did not wait for their goodbyes. Soon the call dropped.

"What to do now?" Maglor asked finally.

"There is nothing to do here." Maedhros said. "If Grond is being constructed, we have no power to stop it. Dagor Dagorath is fast approaching and the only thing we can do is to prepare for it. We will stick to our plans. That is all we can do."

No sooner had he said these words when the door of their carriage opened and Oropher came inside in a hurry.

"All of you need to see this." That was all Oropher said. Glancing at one another, they got up from their seats and followed him. Oropher led him to the beginning of the train. This carriage was customized, with the ceiling, and the walls completely in compressed glass.

"Do you see something different?" Oropher asked.

It took them a few minutes to understand what he meant. Once the trees were behind them, Thranduil could see the open sky. But where one part of the skies was sunny and blue, the other part was dark and stormy. They were heading towards the stormy side.

"Is this a normal occurrence on the island?" Thranduil asked Celegorm. The Elf shook his head.

"No. This never happened."

"Ossë," Maglor said. "That has to be the only explanation."

"Ulmo had better get his 'manservant' under control." Maedhros said. "Before he does more damage than taking the Queen of Alqualondë."

"It may still abate." Maglor said doubtfully.

"I do not know much of storms," Oropher said. Glorfindel had now entered the carriage, dressed in dark grey shirt with blue jeans. He too looked grim. "But I doubt this one will simply slide."

"I can bet it won't." Glorfindel said.

oOo

_The Harbour,_

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

It turned out the storm was only becoming more and more violent. Caranthir, surprisingly, joined them just as they got off the train. The winds were picking up, causing the curtains to flap wildly from the windows. The crates by the docks shifted as if by an invisible large hand. It was in these moments, all the Ellyn were silently happy their Ellyth were not with them.

"Ossë," Maedhros said. "He is focusing on just this side of the island."

"He wants to destroy the ships." Thranduil said, walking along the docks. The sea grew steadily darker, the waters churning and the skies were becoming black from the healthy blue.

"Zaze!" Maedhros called to the water-sprite waiting for them to approach her. "What is going down under there?" Zaze seemed to be the leader, wearing a coral necklace, her fair hair streaming behind her, cord entwined on her biceps.

"There is chaos." Her accent was rich and exotic. Thranduil was unable to place it. "Uinen calls us back, she wants us to come home."

"Is there no way for you to control this storm?"

The waves picked up speed, and Zaze gripped to the edge of the docks, her inhuman strength managing to keep her from being pulled away from the island. "No." Zaze said. "Ulmo calls us. We must obey. We cannot stay."

"Then go."

She reached up, pressing her hand against Maedhros' cheek.

"Keep shelter. I am sorry." Then in the blink of an eye, she was gone.

"We have to find shelter." Maedhros said, rising. "Before this storm takes us right here. Hurry!"

"You know that we will all die whether out here or in a shelter." Thranduil protested. The buildings creaked and groaned under the weight of the wind. It was becoming more and more dangerous by the minute. "This harbour will go under the waves whatever our choice!"

"It is better than to stay here where it is suicide!" Caranthir said. They were now gripping onto one another to keep their footing.

"I am staying." Thranduil said finally. In his heart, he knew it was the perfect decision.

"Do not be ridiculous! Come on."

But Thranduil resisted the tugging on his hand by Maglor's grip.

"The water-sprite said to control tempest at its peak. What better way than to do it in a storm?"

"You are insane!" Maedhros said.

"Insanity often brings the most glorious of plans." Oropher said.

"You cannot possibly be encouraging this!"

"If it saves us then I do!"

A thunder clap broke off the conversation. The clouds rumbled above them and the waters churned, the waves rising higher.

"This storm will be too violent." Maglor shouted over the whistling wind. "Ossë and Uinen will be at war, and the entire harbour will go under!"

"We have to make for higher ground!" Caranthir said. The winds picked up, swirling about them until it became a struggle to keep their footing.

"I am staying." Thranduil said stubbornly.

"Idiot!" Caranthir hissed. "Come on, we have to move!"

"I am staying with him." Maedhros said.

"I have no intention of losing my brother to this!"

"These ships are the only way we can get off this island. If we can save them with whatever plan, then why not?"

"Come on!" Maglor said, grabbing Caranthir when the latter slipped over the wet floor. Water was rising, touching their feet. "The faster we move, the safer we will be."

They heard a loud groan and all of them turned. A communications tower creaked dangerously as its structure bent with the wind, the light sparking from the now free wires before breaking off completely from the base. It whipped towards them, all of them ducking. Thranduil felt it the air shift as the tower shot over them, crashing into one of the fishing boats in the docks.

"Stay safe." Oropher hissed in Thranduil's ear.

"Make sure Legolas doesn't try to come after me." Thranduil returned.

"We should move to higher ground as well." Maedhros said to Thranduil, both of them now left behind at the docks as the others made their way back to the Palace.

"No," Thranduil said. "I have to stay here."

"The next time we won't be so lucky to avoid something like a tower hurtling towards us!"

"I don't intend to let there be a next time!"

"That has a double meaning!" Maedhros shouted. If the situation had not been so risky, Thranduil would have laughed at Maedhros' pert reply. He looked down at Húro. The Ring seemed to pulse with life on his finger, but he saw no change come to it. He had been able to control Húro over the months but now the Ring seemed restless, eager for battle. Much like him.

Taking in a deep breath, he let lose his own emotions. Húro responded eagerly. The storm grew by several degrees and Thranduil was sodden to the skin. He was very cold but it somehow did not bother him. It charged him, making him feel more alert, more alive. Maedhros had been able to keep his footing and now he was kneeling on the docks, unable to face the whipping wind. But Thranduil faced it easily, Húro protecting him from most of the wind's brutality. It was clear the Ocean was at war. The waters converged at a single point from three different directions, marking the movements of Ulmo, Uinen and Ossë before faltering and behaving in the same manner at a different point. But that was not Thranduil's purpose. He had no business fighting Ossë. No, he had to protect the harbour.

He felt Húro's wild joy, matching each wave of fury of the storm with one of its own. It was not reckless as it was before, harming Thranduil in the process. Thranduil was still standing, his body completely fine. But it drained Thranduil resources. He could feel himself tiring rapidly as the Ring sapped more and more of his strength. His knees were buckling and his back bent from exhaustion. But he was stubborn. He kept his position. He did not know how long he stayed that way. But when the waves lessened and ceased to splash against him did he finally let go.

He was unconscious before he even hit the ground.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

I took a bath in cold water on a winter day with no heating in the house... yeah... but it got my nose, er, muses running so that is a good plus point.

**Concepts:**

-The first time when I considered putting in Area 51, I laughed so hard that I thought my family would come in my room to ask what happened. But as time went by, the idea (while amusing) made sense because this is a world of fantasy fiction, and I kind of wanted to take it that way. In Tempest: Modern Age, we stuck to the facts and the rules. But slowly, I want us to go back into Tolkien's world, and bring that touch of magic to the entire thing.

-The strength of souls. My concept of Door of Night ( I wrote this like Night of Door while editing. Good grief.) is that the smaller souls will get outside before the larger souls. So the wargs and the trolls. Then the orcs. Then the Ringwraiths. I consider them weak because I think a part of them was bound to the Ring like their master and just like their master, when the Ring was destroyed, they were crippled beyond repair and were thrown into the Void with Sauron. However, they will stay like that. However, the earth-eaters will be a much large souls, since they will be harder to kill. This time, the Ringwraiths are very much like frail puppets.

-The earth-eaters. This came way before I saw Battle of the Five Armies, I assure you. I read it somewhere in Tolkien's works and I played the 'Battle of Middle-Earth' game. They have a specific name but I am too lazy to check it out right now. I would have to play the game. :P

- The phenomenon of the corpses rising from the earth in the water comes from this event that happened in the past. When there are too heavy rainfalls, or there are floods or hurricanes, the water settles in the graveyards and forces the coffins to rise up on the surface of the ground. So the idea here was pretty much inspired from there. Also the water receding into the ground and taking the corpses inside is linked with the Tolkien part. I wanted to keep it to the dark, evil side.

Also… I have to ask. Are you guys enjoying yourself? Not getting bored, I hope?


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Pain.

It shot him wide awake and he gave low groan. His head was heavy against his pillow and he twisted to his side.

"Thranduil!"

"Father…"

Another stabbing pain shot through his skull and he gripped the sheets in his fists.

"Thranduil, calm down. You are safe."

"He is in pain." The feminine voice he recognized as his wife's. Fingers pulled back his hair and more fingers massaged his exposed temple. The pain ceased before beginning anew and this time his voice was twisted in agony. He pushed Arodien's fingers away, not knowing if he would harm her in this state. He did not know how long it was until the pain lessened considerably but it was the length of it that made it unbearable. He felt like he was trapped in a circle of never-ending agony. His

"He can't take it-"

"Somebody get Jimmy."

He felt the familiar prick of a needle on his arm accompanied by the burning sensation there. The pain diminished, but he did not fall asleep like he usually did. Instead he was stuck between sleep and wakefulness. His mind was hazy. He tried to move but he couldn't. The drug had worked on his body but not his mind.

Finally, he managed to pull himself up a bit. Arms propped him up in a sitting position and his head fell forward as nausea returned. He retched, but nothing except bile came out. His stomach still roiled but it was empty. He wearily sagged against his father's chest. Oropher gently laid him back on something soft and he suspected he was being placed back on the bed. The taste in his mouth was terrible though, and he resisted.

"Water…" He whispered. Soon enough, a cold glass was pressed against his lips. He took a few small sips before turning his head away. He rolled but met something warm. It was evident someone else came into the bed with him. From the calm voice speaking to him, it was his father. But he could not focus on it. He threw open his eyes in wild panic.

"Thranduil, calm down!"

"Get it away from me!"

"Get it? What's it?" Oropher held him down.

Something was leeching off his mind. He could feel it, like a maggot worming deep inside him. The feeling was unpleasant.

"Something is attacking him…"

"How can it be possible?"

"Húro is bringing attention to itself…"

He opened his eyes blearily, the light mercifully dim. He saw dim figures standing at the edge of his bed. Caranthir's face was thrown in a sharp relief, while other's faces were considerably soft in the light.

"He is not going to like this…" Caranthir's voice woke him. Then his eyes fluttered close.

His eyes opened wide when another shot of pain went right through him.

_~Leave him be!~ _Caranthir's command vibrated through his mind. But that was all that happened before silence fell.

"It is no use…"

"Are you sure?"

"Whatever it is... so powerful…"

_"Thranduil…."_

His mind sharpened slightly when he heard the familiar feminine voice. He could not place it. H heard the voice again, but this time he heard it in his mind.

_~The darkness does not suit you, son of Oropher.~_

The voice was tender, caring like a mother's. It soothed his fears, and he tried to seek it out. That voice, however, distant, meant safety. He felt a cool hand brush over his skin, resting on top of his head. Something, however, was keeping him from seeking it. That thing- that leech- was holding on to him.

_~This is not your place. BEGONE!~ _that same, soft feminine voice became as hard and as cold as tempered steel. It was cutting like a knife. He felt a jolt of pain through his skull before receding. Now there was no pain, no unpleasantness. He was so tired. The hand resting on his head lifted and he felt nothing but air. Fighting hard to open his eyes, he finally did. He saw Caranthir standing over him, talking to someone else. His black hair was free except for the two braids framing either side of his face. His light blue shirt bore the emblem of Fëanor. With each weary blink of his eyes, his sight was becoming more and more blurry. The Elleth standing across was tall, lean with hair a splendid blend of gold and silver. Her face was obscured. Suddenly she turned to him.

_"Go to sleep, son of Oropher."_

_"Artanis…" _he murmured but his eyes closed and he knew no more.

oOo

_Harbour,_

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

It was the sound of water dripping and a cool, wet cloth pressed against his forehead that greeted him when he came to. He did not open his eyes, but he could see the light behind his eyelids. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw his father with his back turned to him, golden hair with a slight silver hue shining in the light.

"You are awake," Oropher said, turning to him and leaning against the table he was working on with his hips. He crossed his arms. "The change of breathing betrayed you."

"What happened?" He tried to get up and found that he couldn't. His arms and legs felt leaden. Just then he felt his headache return to him and he squeezed his eyes shut against the suddenly bright light. Oropher took the hint and immediately removed the cloth from his forehead.

"Well, in Jimmy's words, you went 'super nova'." Oropher said, briskly twisting the cloth and wringing out most of the water before settling the cloth on his forehead. Thranduil sighed in relief at the feel of it, this time much colder.

"Was it really that bad?"

"I do not know. But Maedhros was shaken and pale-faced when we came to find you both. He had caught you when you fell unconscious."

"Where did he go?"

"I don't know. As soon as he gave you to us, he turned on his heel and left. I haven't seen him since. I think you scared him off." Oropher added the last bit, his voice humorous.

"What do you think about the Noldor?" The headache had lessened, and he found the dim light in the room bearable. He sat up carefully, the muscles of his back groaning from the lack of use. He turned to his father. He valued his father's thoughts, which were usually more consistent than his own back in his youth.

"Well, I think they are well-established here, dangerous as ever, but with no madness in them." Oropher said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and looking at his son. "I think they can be trusted."

Thranduil removed the cloth from his forehead and folded it, smirking. "That is certainly saying something."

"I know. And this admission costs me most of my pride, so try not to rub it in." Oropher turned his back to him, rearranging the medicine on the table pushed against a wall. Thranduil stared at it with open distaste. The room looked like an invalid's room. He looked down at the floor where he had set his feet and carefully tried to get up.

"Anyway, I do not think that- Thranduil you foolish boy, what in Arda are you doing?" Oropher barked, immediately grabbing his son by the elbow before he fell forward.

"How long have I been like this?" Thranduil said, placing his arm around his father's waist for support.

"You have been out for a week."

"And my wife and son?"

"Arodien is with Celeborn and Galadriel-"

"Celeborn? Galadriel?" Thranduil asked, becoming more and more bewildered. "What happened while I was out?"

"A lot, and I would tell you if you stop misbehaving!" Oropher scolded him. Steering him back to his bed, Oropher dropped his son on the soft surface and forced him to sit back against the pillows. "Now stay put!"

Once he was sure Thranduil would not start squirming in restlessness, Oropher continued.

"We got you here soon after you lost unconsciousness. At the time you slept without any trouble and then suddenly you started thrashing everywhere. We thought at first it was Húro but then we realized it was something else."

"Some kind of force," Thranduil murmured. He rubbed his forehead, "An invader."

"Yes. You were too weak. And Caranthir suspected whoever it was, was much more experienced than you. You could not have defended yourself even if you had the chance."

"Caranthir was talked to me." Thranduil said, now starting to remember bits of it. "I remember."

"That was what happened. But you were simply not ready. You took on a great risk, trying to use Húro when you have obviously not tried something like it. You said Húro could be controlled by the peak of a storm. How goes the Ring?"

Thranduil looked down at the Ring adorning his left hand. Húro's gems glittered up at him. The mithril band did not tarnish, nor did it show any signs of wear. And yet he felt calm. Húro was still very dangerous, but it was less eager, more… content. And he felt like he could understand it.

"I feel better." Thranduil said, pausing before adding, "Much better."

Oropher pondered for a while. Then he extended his hand.

"May I see it?"

Thranduil moved to take it off but suddenly felt very reluctant to do so.

"Let us leave it for a while," Thranduil said, feeling unsettled by the new feeling. Oropher's brows snapped together in a frown but he thankfully said nothing and dropped his hand to his side. "So what else happened? What is this about Celeborn and Galadriel?"

"The ships that were due to arrive carried them here."

"Wait, wait," Thranduil rubbed his temples. "You mean to tell me that Celeborn and Galadriel came here? To this very harbour? On this island? What was Galadriel's reaction?"

"I was too busy tending you to see or ask." Oropher admitted. "Though from what I hear, it was splendid but not as outrageous as the Fëanorians had feared."

"Humph, pity, but there might be more luck when Elrond meets them!"

"I kind of hope he would not. Anyway, it was Galadriel's help that finally saved you. You have brought too much attention to yourself by using Húro. The winds are shifting and a change is coming. Some of the Maia that have allied themselves to the Enemy were attacking you."

"I was trained to defend myself under such attacks-"

"It isn't enough." Oropher said, shaking his head. "You need to learn, Thranduil. You have to get stronger both in body and in mind. You do not know how dangerous this was for you."

"I can guess," Thranduil murmured.

"We had become afraid. This might have taken a turn for the worst if Galadriel had not come."

"Fine, I will train." Thranduil rubbed his face with a hand. "Is there anything else?"

Oropher opened his mouth to speak but just then a loud rumble echoed across the room. Thranduil's face coloured into a deep shade of red while Oropher chuckled.

"Yes. You need to eat. And eat slowly. You will be eating after nearly a week, so the food might have trouble staying down." In spite of Oropher's fears, Thranduil was ravenous. It was all he could do not to wolf down the meal set for him.

"You might as well get something more fulfilling than broth," Thranduil complained after clearing out his tray.

"I thought you might say that." Oropher said, producing another tray. "This is mine, but I left it because I knew you would be hungry. And once you have taken your fill, you are going to have a bath." It was then he realized the shirt he was wearing was sodden with sweat. They had obviously worried not moving him too much when he finally fell in a dreamless slumber.

He had to be helped into the bath by his father but he managed to get out on his own. Oropher was right. The weakness mostly came from the lack of use of his limbs and the lack of food. He managed to dress himself and once he was ready Oropher led him out by taking his arm. As soon as they left the rooms, Thranduil managed to wrestle his arm free.

"Stubborn elfling," Oropher muttered.

"We all share that one trait." Thranduil said, making Oropher smile. The corridors were mostly deserted, and Thranduil expected most of the people went out to help in the reconstruction. It wasn't until he looked out of a passing window that he realized the extent of damage.

The harbour was a disaster.

He could see torn down buildings that looked like paper houses ripped off by a cruel hand. Debris was gathered into heaps by the side of the road. Some of the ships had gone under and they had lost lives as well, Oropher had told him.

"But it is nothing as drastic as it could have been had you not saved the harbour." Oropher said, resting a hand on Thranduil's back. "I did not think Húro had that kind of power."

"Neither did I," Thranduil said. "At least, I suspected but not expected it to be this much."

"Well, you know the cost of such power. Try not to use it again to this point until it is absolutely necessary."

Thranduil thought about using it on a battlefield, and falling unconscious, unarmed. It would be a death sentence.

"I don't think I ever will."

"Don't start making promises you can't keep." Oropher patted him on the back. "Come on, I have already told them you are awake and they sent word they wanted to meet us in one of the chambers."

The council chamber was round, with vaulted ceiling of alternating white and navy blue. Caranthir was sitting with a laptop on the table, immersed into his work. Maglor and Maedhros were discussing something in low tones, and Glorfindel was sitting alone, lost in thought. All of them looked up when they heard Oropher and Thranduil come in.

"Ah," Maglor said, straightening and facing them. "So here is the saviour of the city. How do you feel?"

"Like I have been run over," Thranduil answered. Maglor gave a small smile.

"From what Caranthir tells me, you should be feeling more than simply run over."

Thranduil just smiled in return. He sat down and said nothing.

"So I hear a lot of things happened in one week I decided to go unconscious." Thranduil said.

"Well, yes." Maglor said. "We have both Celeborn and Galadriel here."

"It would have been more fun if Elrond was here too." Glorfindel interjected. Maglor winced.

"I would rather not." Maglor muttered.

"What was Galadriel's reaction?"

"She suspected the Valar had hidden something like this from the rest of Aman. She just did not expect to what extent."

"And where is she?"

"Looking about," Caranthir spoke up. Even his darker, reddish complexion seemed to suit him. If he were to cut his hair short to his shoulders, he would have passed off as a handsome young man in this modern age. Caranthir's face was carefully expressionless, and it looked like he wore a plastic mask to hide his true emotions. Thranduil did not know what to make of him. Celegorm had, however, told him that Caranthir was the most reclusive of his brothers. In a way, Caranthir now feared his own temper to take control of him, turning the tides for the worst. So he kept by the Sea, and did the ferrying for his brothers and his people. "I suspect she wants to see how far we have gone in all the years of hiding."

"And what about the rest of the ships?"

"Oh, they bring you your city planners, stone masons, farmers, smiths and the rest. The next ships will be bringing the ones who had been in your army." Maglor smiled. "You have everything to ready a city, except a place to make a city in. Amrod took the liberty to speak to the Dwarven King at Mirny Undergrounds. They are willing to help."

"I have missed a lot." Thranduil said, rubbing the back of his neck. "And Haldir?"

"There is no word from Amras." Maglor responded. "He is still stable, but under treatment, as far as we know."

"Do Celeborn and Galadriel know?"

"I do not think so. They only arrived three days ago."

He had slept without any disturbances for the last three days, Thranduil thought, shaking his head internally.

"Well if you have planned everything then why am I here?" Thranduil asked.

"There isn't much to do until Maedhros arrives." Maglor said, sitting on the table facing Thranduil. "And we are speaking here because these are the few rooms we are utterly sure will not be overheard." Thranduil raised his brows at that.

"You expect rebellion among your own people?"

"We prefer to be safe rather than sorry." Maglor said. "I do not think any of us can afford letting the Enemy have any information on us just yet."

"Where is Maedhros?"

"I do not know." Maglor said. Thranduil gave him a look of disbelief. "I swear," the Fëanorian protested. "When we brought you back, he went to the kitchens and gathered nearly a week's supplies and left. We haven't heard from him since."

"He will be back." Caranthir said indifferently. "He always does."

"So what do we do then?"

"We wait." Maglor said. "You should go. Consider having a normal few hours before my brother appears."

"Define normal," Thranduil muttered. Turning to his father he asked, "Where is Arodien?"

"She is with Celeborn at the moment."

oOo

_Palace,_

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

Arodien and Celeborn were sitting across each other in the parlour. Both of them were silent. The only sounds came from the canaries that were singing sweet songs. They were not in cages, but instead sat freely wherever they wished. Silence stretched out until it became uncomfortable.

"My lady, you have asked for me. May I ask why?"

She finally stirred, placing her coffee mug on the table.

"Yes, I did. I apologize for being rude without explaining why." She trailed off, wondering where to begin. "I wanted to ask…you and Lady Galadriel and Nenya…"

"Ah, I see." Celeborn nodded in understanding.

Celeborn sat back in his chair, his temple resting on his hand as he regarded her closely.

"It is a lot of giving," Celeborn said finally. "When Galadriel took the Nenya, I remember I had to be very giving. Your relationship changes, this I will not lie, my lady. And it will never remain constant for as long as your husband hold the Ring of Power."

"And if he were… to discard it?"

A ghost of a smile appeared on Celeborn's lips. "You and I both know that Thranduil protects his own. And he will do whatever it takes to protect his own. As far as I remember, he never cared much of his health when he became king." Arodien remembered Thorontur's constant complaints and agreed it was true. Celeborn nodded. "I do not think he will try to remove the Ring of Power, but even if he tries, he will not be able t. When Galadriel first noticed that Nenya was starting to fill her with Sea-longing, she tried once to remove the Ring. But her fëa had become too used to her Ring, and will not suffer to be without it."

"What happened then?"

"Oh, she took Nenya again on her hand. But what I mean is that you cannot blame your husband for changing. The Rings of Power are… unnatural. This Thranduil knew. None of the Rings have come into being without harming their bearers. Frodo was an example. Galadriel herself is also an example. Mithrandir as well. What Thranduil did not know, or perhaps did not guess, is that the fëa of the bearer must adapt to its Ring, in order to find some normalcy in their companionship. Frodo used to say that the Ring, even while he did not wear it, made his hearing and sight sharper. So the changes in Thranduil are only a transition."

"To what end?" Arodien asked softly. She knew the lore of the Rings. The Ringwraiths became twisted, when Sauron used their Rings to claim them. Not all Rings were good in nature.

"To a better end, hopefully," Celeborn said. Then he reached forward and placed a comforting hand on hers. "My lady, I know you have fears for this. And I understand them, having seen Galadriel return with Nenya. But I will tell you here and now that the things are now in motion. Thranduil is not one to take decisions lightly, even if he wore Húro under duress of the conditions. Celebrimbor crafted Húro under the Valar's intense scrutiny. He had done it after many plans of improvement. Húro will be better than its ancestors, I am sure."

"Thranduil has changed greatly. I do not think he realizes it."

"Most bearers do not until they are fully changed." Celeborn paused, wondering if he should continue. Then he started with slight hesitation, "My lady, I have heard… rumours of you in the Keep. It is said there were distinct bruises about your neck."

Arodien unconsciously raised her fingers, brushing them against her throat.

"It was nothing."

"What happened?" Celeborn was not fooled. Not that she tried to deny it.

"Thranduil was asleep. So was I. And then I wake up with lack of air and I find him," Arodien swallowed reflexively. "Like I said, it is nothing."

"Thranduil loves you greatly. He would never do such a thing if he were in the right mind. It should pass. Nevertheless, I think it would be best if you slept apart for some time."

"No," Arodien's words were firm. "My husband is encased in foresight while he sleeps, some of them very painful. I will stay."

"I do not think that would be wise." Celeborn tried to persuade her.

"And would you have done the same if it were your wife?"

Celeborn gave her a small smile.

"No, I would not."

"Then you cannot ask me to do otherwise."

This time Celeborn smiled widely. Arodien, with her chin tilted upwards, the look on her face regal and calm made her look not like the young bride for Thranduil but like a true queen. He patted her hand.

"Often the bearers of Rings are told in tales and ballads and the ones who supported them go unsung." Celeborn said, leaning back and straightening in his chair. "I should know, for you will not see much mention of me in the old tales except as Galadriel's husband."

"And there is no mention of my name," Arodien said dryly.

"But if you continue to support him, he will know. Thranduil never forgets."

That did not comfort Arodien. Not even a little.

oOo

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

"I have been waiting for you," Maedhros growled. The two Valar standing in front of him were not moved by his words.

"I hope you did not tell anyone else of my coming here," Oromë said.

"I had to speak to you alone, so no." Maedhros answered. He placed his hands on his hips. "Would you mind telling me what happened?" He was seething in fury.

"I am not quite sure what you mean." Oromë said evenly. Maedhros frowned. The Vala was literally having him say it!

"You said that you did not think the Ring of Power will be too powerful. What I saw was something completely different!"

"Celebrimbor warned us that the powers may grow-"

"Grow? Grow? What I saw was-"Maedhros pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He exhaled heavily through his nose. "He is not ready."

"He has not yet been tested fully." Oromë said. "And neither have you. You have been asked for first blood as well."

"That is not your concern." Maedhros growled. "You have given power to someone who is already very dangerous but not as wise. You do not know if he will be able to handle it."

"The same way we do not know if you will be able to handle it." Oromë said evenly. Maedhros gave a low growl deep in his throat. The Vala sighed, shaking his head. "Maedhros, there is nothing to be done. Húro's power was greater than any of us imagined it to be. It was meant to be strong, but not to this extent. Things are now moving in their own flow." Oromë said. "There are things in Arda that we do not understand nor do we have power over them. With our own powers diminishing, the Door of Night crumbles. You will have to depend on one another."

"The power you have given him is the one he could easily use to destroy us!"

Oromë actually laughed.

"Is this it? You worry that he, a Sinda, whose whom you destroyed will turn against you."

"He will have every reason to." Maedhros' anger disappeared, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "And I would not blame him for it."

"He wouldn't want it, Fëanor's son." Oromë said.

"How do you know?"

"Ask him."

Ulmo had been quiet throughout the entire exchange. Then Maedhros turned to him.

"The only way in or out of this island is through Sea. If Ossë continues to fight us-"

"I assure you that the matter is now under control." Ulmo answered. "He will be no problem from now."

"Really?" Maedhros narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "And if he ever returns to Morgoth's side."

Ulmo gave a small, cold smile.

"I have made sure he doesn't."

"Now, is there anything else you would like to know?" Oromë asked. The Forester had a barest trace of amusement in his voice. "Or the only reason you called us is to vent your anger?" Maedhros flushed.

"I wanted to know more about the aid you are going to send." Maedhros said. It was not what he wanted to know. The only thing the Fëanorian wanted was to speak of Húro. It had not gone according to plan and Maedhros still felt some misgivings for that Ring.

"Aman will empty soon." Oromë said. "And it will happen quickly. You need not fear for aid."

"And how do you expect the Race of Men believe in us or our tale?" Maedhros asked. Oromë smiled.

"Oh do not worry. Manwë had been working on that. It will be made clear once you return to the Elves."

"We cannot stay here longer." Ulmo said. "We are needed elsewhere."

Maedhros nodded at them before turning to the mouth of the cave, his boots squelching in the mud. Sea water was pouring inside as the tides rose. In minutes it will be completely submerged.

"Maedhros-"

Maedhros turned slightly. Oromë was smiling warmly at him.

"Your father would have been proud."

Maedhros gaped at him before clenching his jaw and abruptly leaving the cave.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:**

I was going to update this on my birthday, but since I cannot update in the coming, I decided to do it now as a treat. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

_Harbour,_

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

They met Galadriel on the way out. The others slipped past, giving their excuses while Thranduil and Oropher stayed. Galadriel was tall and lean, her slim figure giving the illusion of being taller than most when in reality she stood just the same height as Thranduil, perhaps even a little taller than him. Her hair went well past her hips and she kept it unbound. She was dressed in soft white gown with a trail behind her, the deep violet sash about her waist complimenting both her figure and the silver-gold mixture of her hair.

"Thranduil Oropherion," she said, smiling at him. "We meet at last."

"I will leave you two alone." Oropher said, slipping past them. Thranduil stared after him before turning his attention to Galadriel. He bowed lightly at the waist.

"I had not expected such a swift return to Arda." Thranduil said, taking his place beside her. They walked along the length of the corridor.

"We had not either, but it was good that we did. You were too deep in trouble."

"What was it that attacked me?"

"Maia," Galadriel said. "Those that have refused the Valar's command now join their forces with that of the Enemy's. They sense the powers of your Ring, and I can say that it had grown more than any of us had expected. The Maia attacking you-"

"You mean there was more than one?" Thranduil asked.

"Yes. And they were trying to remove a potential threat from the chessboard." Galadriel glanced at him, her deep grey eyes meeting his. "You should be careful from now on, especially until you learn to protect yourself against such threats."

"Legolas and I have not mind-spoken for many months just for this reason of attracting unwanted attention."

"I think that is for the best." They came upon a set of stairs. Galadriel lifted her skirts as she made her way down the steps. "Húro, it seems, have accepted your control over it. But you must learn to now school yourself according to your Ring. Húro is... unpredictable than mine or Elrond's. But it is loyal. That relieves me."

"You speak as if these Rings of Power are much more than pieces of object."

"These Rings are not natural, Thranduil, and none of them should be considered to be anything less than a powerful object. When a maker creates these Rings, he anticipates their power but that does not mean he understands the true extent of their power until they are fully created. When Celebrimbor made our three Rings in secret, it was merely to test his own extent of making Rings. He had never expected them to serve us the way they did. Also you will notice that they will change you in a way you would not imagine."

"And how will I see these changes?"

"Changes are hard to register in oneself when the change is occurring. But remember the powers of your Ring and you might recognize them."

"If I take off this Ring-"

"Do you have second thoughts?" Galadriel interrupted sharply.

"No," Thranduil replied, just as sharp. Then he softened. "I know I will not."

"Then such thoughts or questions are useless." Galadriel said. "What matters now is our future. There are many things to do."

Thranduil fell silent, digging his hands into his pockets.

"Did you hear about Haldir?" He asked at length.

"Yes," Galadriel said. She sighed. "Poor Ellon; he was dear to us. Haldir was an able soldier, a loyal friend."

"Are you going to visit him?"

"He has stood by our side in all the lowest points." Galadriel said with a small smile. "Of course we will."

"He is fortunate to be alive."

"Yes," Galadriel sighed. "His brothers are a great loss to him. His wife will be coming with the next ships. She does not know. Haldir will need great support to go through this." Galadriel glanced at him and smiled.

"You have been smiling at me like that every now and then." Thranduil said, turning to look at the pathway they were following.

"It is nothing," Galadriel said, giving a genuine laugh that showed she was not mocking him. "It is just… you have changed, Thranduil. And I think for the better." Thranduil thought back of the night many days ago, when he accidently strangled Arodien and bile rose in his throat.

"I wouldn't think so." Thranduil said quietly.

oOo

_Harbour,_

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

"Talk about troubles," Legolas muttered under his breath, flipping through the pages. "My son's writing is terrible." Nimdir's writing was scrawled in black ink over the pages, hastily written but making a bitter reading. The silver hawk sitting on its perch crooned softly.

"I know!" Legolas said, agreeing with his hawk. "It is not as if he just learned how to write…" Legolas trailed off, sighing as he reached for another set of papers. He had heard accounts from both his grandfather and Lord Celeborn, but the situation was worsening. All streets were to empty soon after twilight. The guards were allowed into the private quarters for patrol. The Ellyth were also trained in basic fighting. Spears, arrows, and swords were stacked for use. Which raised another question; such primitive weaponry was nothing in place of guns and grenades. Legolas rubbed his forehead. This was yet another difficulty to overcome.

The silver hawk crooned and then flew over to the Elf and perched on his left shoulder.

"You are in a good mood and I don't like it, Keeneye," Legolas muttered. The silver hawk nudged the side of his face, making him smile. "And I missed you too." He said, scratching the hawk's beak. Keeneye had barely hatched out of his egg when Legolas was leaving.

His phone began to ring and he glanced at the I.D. He grinned when he saw his wife's name and picture across the screen. He answered it, pressing it on his ear.

"Hey, babe," Legolas said pertly. Ever since they found out about fan fiction, Életh teased him by giving him nickname. He retaliated by calling her 'babe' or 'baby girl', both the terms which she found annoying and crude. She usually made an irritated sound from it.

This time though, gunshots met his greeting.

"Életh," Legolas said sharply. "What is happening?"

"Legolas," his wife's voice was panicked, out of breath. "Grey Havens under attack-"

"Wait what!"

"They are everywhere," the line was starting to break. "You have to… looking for… Kate… Arodis… trouble…"

"Életh, the line is breaking. I can't hear anything-"

"I… love you… Andúril…"

"Életh?" The static was becoming heavier until her voice became cut off. Legolas swallowed. "Életh?"

He immediately hung up the line and tried to call her again but the call did not go through. Groaning, he slammed his cell phone on his desk, burying his head in his hands. His hawk rubbed against his neck in comfort. He finally raised his head.

Keeneye looked up at him worriedly, his beak moving in clicks and hoots.

"She will be fine," Legolas said firmly, trying to convince himself. "I know she will be fine." He shifted restlessly in his chair before finally getting up and making for the door. He had to discuss this with his father.

oOo

_Harbour,_

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

He met with Celeborn with hearty thumps on the back and some occasional teasing.

"My wife is elusive of late!" Thranduil joked. "I thought she was with you."

"She took a stroll with the Lady Agoreth, Caranthir's wife." Celeborn said. "Come. There is something I need to show you."

Thranduil gave him an exasperated look.

"You are going to like this." Celeborn promised.

"Judging from everything that is happening, I am not too sure."

Celeborn chuckled as he led him down to the kennels.

"Bloodhounds," Thranduil said. He knelt, reaching out for the pup to sniff. Soon it crawled into his lap.

"There are more to come," Celeborn said. "The new ships will bring them in."

"We are getting more ready for war, then." Thranduil said, scratching the pup around the ears. "So what was Galadriel's reaction towards the cousins?"

"Phenomenal," Celeborn grinned. "She insists she expected them but I know better. The shock was comical but do not tell her I said that." He warned. "She told not to tell anyone but it was just too good to be true."

"I understand," Thranduil said, grinning. "What do you think of the Fëanorians?"

Celeborn suddenly laughed.

"We have been asking each other this question for the past few days." Celeborn explained. "They look fine to me."

"And this… Lady Agoreth?"

"She is fine enough, as ladies go. I have to admit the House of Fëanor certainly have taste. She is wilful enough, to command her husband's city in his absence."

He did not give Caranthir and his life much attention but he had met Caranthir's wife, an Avari maiden Caranthir had fallen in love with long before he had come across Lúthien with his brother. She was tall, with uncommonly white, glowing skin and wavy dark brown hair. She was proud, he recalled, something he did not truly approve of.

"They have no children?" He asked.

"They did; a son."

"What happened to him?"

"The Sea took him when he was forty-nine." Thranduil glanced at him. "None of them know what happened."

"I am starting to wonder if that is connected to all the recent events."

"Perhaps it is. But we might never know."

oOo

_Harbour._

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

"Where have you been?" Maglor demanded. Maedhros had appeared suddenly prior to evening fell. He had brought them together for a meeting.

"About," Maedhros said vaguely. "I was making some friends."

Thranduil noted that Maedhros glanced at him warily before looking away.

"I do hope you have discussed the important things in my absence. No? I knew I had useless brothers."

"With an eldest brother who hidden himself away," Maglor and Caranthir said together. Maedhros scowled.

"Well," Maedhros glanced at Thranduil. "There has been a lot of news while you slept. Apparently someone has tipped off the media and placed some wrong news about you."

"Wrong news in what sense?" Thranduil dreaded to hear it.

"Apparently Lee Kraft is affiliated with Dawn's 'murder' and her missing family." Thranduil's throat tightened. "And Jason and Miranda, being retired soldiers of the Army who have cut all ties from their family and friends are now connected with you. Jason and Miranda are both in the wanted list. You are all being searched for."

"What else?"

"Ukraine is completely shut down. There is no government there. It is a wasteland full of dark Maia, Men and Wargs."

It took him a moment to digest this.

"What else?" Thranduil repeated.

"Celegorm has left for Greenland. Maglor will be going to USA." Judging from the look on his face, Maglor was still not too happy with the prospect. "We have to go to UK."

"We?" Thranduil asked, narrowing his eyes.

"I will be coming with you." Maedhros said. "You have to be announced and not just to the Prime Minister but to everyone. And since the Enemy is using the media against you, it is only a matter of time it will be used against me. We Elves must stick together." Maedhros said.

"Oh, and there is another thing." Caranthir shifted open the lid of the laptop resting in front of him. "This just came on the media. Since Thranduil was recovering and my dear brother was nowhere to be found, I thought it best to show it now."

The video was from a news channel.

"Strange occurrences have been happening for the last few months and this is one of them. Large birds that resemble eagles have been appearing across the world. They are nesting on the high mountain peaks. Scientists do not know how they could have survived without us noticing, but they warn civilians and military not to engage with these eagles. Scientists suggest these eagles have higher intelligence than their kind."

"Manwë's aid," Maedhros murmured. "The aid that was promised."

"That lightens the mood considerably." Thranduil remarked.

"And it will also help the people believe us." Maedhros cast a side along glance at Thranduil. "Have you recovered?"

"I am ready to leave."

"Good. We leave day after tomorrow."

oOo

_Harbour,_

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

It turned out soon that Legolas had taken residence in the barracks across the city. He had come back distraught. The years managed to help Legolas in compose most of his emotions but the worry was strong in him as he spilled out Életh's call to his kin.

"She will be fine, Legolas. Életh is strong; she knows how to handle herself." Oropher said. Legolas swallowed hard and nodded, not bothering to look up at his grandsire.

"It is a good thing the majority of Elves had already left," Thranduil said. "Why was Életh still there? I thought Jason had given them orders to clear out the headquarters in the past week."

"She said there were still some things that needed to be taken care of." Legolas said wearily. He ran a hand over his face. "I should have tried to persuade her."

"It wouldn't have gone well." Oropher said dryly. "Teleri Ellyth are very strong-willed and independent. She would not have listened."

"Regardless," Legolas said. Then he shook her head. "There is another thing; Arodien was there as well."

At this news, Thranduil looked at his son sharply. "Arodien? She was supposed to leave in the first group!"

"I know." Legolas' regrettable tone told him everything. "But she is as stubborn as Életh is. She decided to stay back and collect information whilst Grey Havens was still being used as a Head Base."

"Himben is with the Enemy. No doubt he would try to take back his daughter." Oropher said.

"And the Enemy would be happy to oblige if it means getting rid of hacker as well as use leverage against Dorián." Thranduil said, shaking his head. "Does Dorián know?"

"No, I came straight here."

"Good." Thranduil pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Break it to him gently when he reports in the next time. Although I doubt it will go so far. I suspect he already sensed something was amiss with his wife."

"Will they harm her?" Legolas asked. "Will they harm them, if they captured them both?"

"I do not think so." Thranduil said after a pause. "Remember, both the Ellyth are important politically as well as strategically. I do not think they will come to any harm."

"We will know more soon." Oropher said. He descended his hand over Arodien, who had been pale-faced and quiet throughout the exchange. "They will be fine." Oropher said. Thranduil glanced at his father. Oropher always kept unfailing trust in those he thought could be trusted. If he had the confidence that both the Ellyth could make out of it alive, then chances were it was true. Oropher gave his daughter by marriage a comforting squeeze on her shoulder, to which she smiled in reply.

"Come." Oropher said to Legolas, prodding him to rise from his seat with his hand. "You need to ready yourself for the coming voyage. Get some rest. If we are to chase across the world for your wife, then we might as well get you into a bed for some sleep. You will need your strength."

"No," Legolas said firmly. The strength in his words left them in surprise. "I am not deserting my father."

"Legolas," Thranduil said. "Életh is just as my daughter as she is your wife. Her safety means a lot to me-"

"You said so yourself once." Legolas interrupted. He locked his eyes on his father. "This war is going to test us to the boundaries we did not even know existed. I am not going to ruin the crucial moments by running off in a wild goose chase-"

"If you are half-hearted in your work with us, then you will not be up to your full capability," Arodien reasoned with her son.

"Going on a chase where I had no idea my wife's location will waste more time than me worrying." Legolas argued. "I will be better off here with some work to keep my hands busy. Besides," his voice faltered slightly. "You said it; Életh can take care of herself. And Arodien is a good thinker, even under pressure. They will find their way out." Legolas shook his head, rising from his seat. "I will go and get some rest."

They watched him leave in silence.

"He is brave." Oropher said softly. "I do not think it would have been the choice for me if I had been in his position."

"He is stubborn," Thranduil said. "I let him off lightly. If he does not stick to his job and he is distracted then I will bundle him off to find his wife myself, even if I have to throw him into an Enemy foothold to do it." Thranduil shook his head. "But you are right. I am very proud of him."

Before retiring, Thranduil sought out Jimmy, Jason and Miranda. The trio never looked so out of place as they did here on Tol Antanë. After filling them in with what Legolas told them, the trio not only looked out of place but looked graver.

"How are you lot feeling?" Thranduil asked after a long pause. The question was an awkward way to end the silence.

"Useless and worthless," Jason said. "We have nothing to do here. It is a good thing we are moving out tomorrow."

"Yes, the trip to UK will certainly be something." Thranduil said, sitting on one of the tables.

"Wait," Miranda said. She looked much more reasonable than he saw her last. "We are not going y as well as with you to UK."

"What? Then where-"

"We have to establish another base." Jason said. "I am basically the most wanted man in America-"

"Which makes you wanted everywhere," Thranduil put in. Jason nodded.

"True, but I have some really, really good friends who would do anything to make sure I am safe. We intend to go back to Greece, where we first found Legolas and others. That might become our main base for now at least."

"What happened to the teams in America?"

"Still on the run," Jimmy said. "We had to keep moving."

"So we will be taking another ship, the next day after you leave." Miranda smiled.

Later, it was clear that in spite of Oropher's reassurances, none of the family members were able to get any rest that night.

"The attack on Grey Havens was a warning." Thranduil said. "They wanted to make sure we knew they could attack us at any place we consider the safest."

"And maybe because they needed something." Oropher said. "Why wasn't Grey Havens equipped to handle such an intrusion?"

"It is well protected but it was more civilian than military." Thranduil said. "They weren't ready."

"It is a good thing most of the Elves had already shifted to other bases."

"Ai," Thranduil said wearily, rubbing his temples with his forefingers. "Can't you take the kingship from me?"

"No."

"I could abdicate my throne."

"No." There was no regular amusement in Oropher's voice. "You are more trustworthy than I. you have learned not to let your emotions rule you when you rule your people. I cannot trust myself for that. And you have learned to act sensibly. I still hold a few grudges in my heart."

"Pity," Thranduil said. "Sharing this burden with another would be so much fun."

"Share it with Arodien then."

Thranduil tried to protest but Oropher silenced him with a stern look.

"You coddle your wife," Oropher said firmly. "She is not a trophy wife to be paraded, but she is your Queen. Arodien has brains, more than you in some things, in fact." Thranduil looked suitably insulted. "It is true," Oropher said before Thranduil could retort. "Thranduil, what is going to come is not something you can handle on your own. You will be needed to give your full time to alliances as well as your military. Let Arodien handle your kingdom in your stead. She may not have stayed Queen after you came to the throne for long but that does not mean she is not ready or inexperienced. "Arodien is ready just as much as your mother was. That is why I left her behind to handle things in Aman." Oropher looked at him with more severity, suddenly making Thranduil feel rather small in his father's eyes. "And I have heard from your wife that you have not given her or anyone else a single detail as to what you have been up to here in Arda."

"I have told them the gist of it."

"'The gist of it' is not enough." Oropher said. "Speak to them both. And console your wife. Poor thing has gone through a lot when she saw you lying on the bed after saving the harbour. She could have simply left and saved herself the pain of watching her mate suffer. But she stayed and she was strong throughout it all. I commend it for her. She bore it like a soldier."

"I will speak to her."

"And love her too," Oropher added with a bare hint of humour. Thranduil felt his cheeks burn. "Now there is another thing I wanted to speak to you about. The Fëanorian in charge of this harbour-"

"Caranthir-"

"Yes, him. Does he give you a chill?"

"Well, I think Caranthir is not all that he seems." Thranduil said. Oropher raised his brow.

"Why would you say that?"

"Have you ever seen the way he moves?" Thranduil said. "He favours his left side more than his right, but his instincts usually force his right hand into action."

"Meaning that he is dominantly right-handed but somehow needed to learn his left hand," Oropher said.

"That isn't the only thing." Thranduil said. "Maedhros said he disappears off somewhere whenever I or any other unwanted guest arrive."

"You think he is a spy," Oropher said, suddenly interested.

"No," Thranduil said. "I just think that Caranthir is more than just a caretaker of a harbour. I also think his brothers are hiding his true role and I do not like it."

"Sometimes secrets are meant to be kept."

"And sometimes secrets get people killed." Thranduil frowned. "Maedhros once told me that he did not know where Caranthir disappeared off to. He lied."

This time Oropher's interest was directed at Thranduil.

"I never knew you to be this keen-eyed." Oropher said slowly. "Either that you have become perceptive in your time here, or your Ring has made your perceptive, in order to aid you in seeking allies and differentiating enemies."

Thranduil glanced down at his Ring and remembered Monique.

"I think it is the latter," Thranduil said quietly. "I was a poor judge of personality before it."

oOo

_Harbour,_

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

He found Arodien standing by the window, a dressing gown pulled over her sleeping attire.

"The stars looked different from here." She said, looking up. "The Evening Star, however, shines just as brightly."

Thranduil crossed the room and stood behind his wife, admiring the scene with her.

"There was a time when I looked at the sky with hope." Arodien said. "But now I am not so sure."

"And why is that, my lady?"

Arodien looked over her shoulder at him.

"I feel as if I am caught by the current, forced to ride the waves to a place much more dangerous than the ride itself." Arodien said. "I feel like I am losing everything I love from my grasp."

"Even me," Thranduil asked. Years had schooled him into discerning his wife's moods and her hidden words.

"Even you," Arodien agreed. Turning fully towards him, she cupped his face in her hands. "What has happened to you?" She asked. "You have changed, and not just by the Ring or the responsibility on your shoulders. I felt your change from the moment we met after so long."

"It had been a hard life here, Armes." Thranduil said, pressing his forehead against hers.

"Explain it to me, so that I can understand."

"Now?"

"Yes, now!" Arodien said, pulling away slightly. "Before duty takes you away again."

Thranduil led his wife to the bed and they sat over the covers. There was no way Thranduil could tell everything in one sitting, but he tried to give a summary of it. He did not shirk around the hardships he had faced, and Arodien listened to him with full attention.

"Well," Thranduil said. "Now that you know, what do you say?"

Arodien smiled and pressed her hand on his cheek.

_"Stubborn oaf," _Arodien said with love. _"You should not have tried to shelter me."_

_"I hardly do that in some things." _The cheeky reply earned him a painful pinch in his side, making him yelp. _"Am I forgiven?"_

_"No."_

_"You still have some concerns?"_

_"Yes." _Arodien said. _"But thank you for what you told me."_

_"She is going to be fine, Armes."_

_"I hope so."_

oOo

_Harbour,_

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

After Legolas met with Kate, the pair strolled through the gardens in a long silence. When nearly an hour passed by, Kate decided to speak up.

"You are a bit quiet," Kate observed.

"I am sorry." Legolas said, clasping his hands behind back. "I am just a bit distracted."

"I think they will be fine." Kate said. "They looked after me after all."

Legolas gave a quiet laugh.

"So what happens now?" Kate asked.

"They didn't tell you anything?"

"They told me I was to be trained here."

"Yes, you will be."

"In what?"

"In weaponry," Legolas said. "They will teach you everything that you should know."

"Is it really necessary?"

"You should be ready for the coming war." Legolas said. Kate fiddled with the necklace chain. "Kate, you have to know; the Noldor are hard teachers, they pioneered the weapons. You will have to go along their methods but if anything becomes too much to handle, you will tell them immediately. Their purpose is to train you not break you."

She nodded. "Of course. I understand."

"You will be safe here." Legolas promised. "The Enemy will not be able to find you as long as you stay on this island." Kate nodded. Legolas gave her a small smile. "Keep heart; these people are not cruel or ruthless. They will not lose their valuable trainee. Remember that you have the blood of kings. Your ancestors were strong and you are as well."

Kate nodded.

"I will be fine." Kate said. "I know you have to leave."

"Yes, I have to."

"It is fine, you know." Kate added. "I have been on my own many times. I know how to work alone."

"I know you will be fine. Just know that you have some friends."

"Legolas?"

"Yes?"

She looked to be ready to say something but changed her mind.

"Nothing," she said. "It is nothing."

Legolas considered her for a moment before nodding. "Alright."

oOo

_Harbour,_

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

He finally faced Monique in the company of Galadriel the next day. She had been placed in a holding cell, with alert guards standing at the door. Thranduil felt the precaution was unnecessary, since there was no way off the island for Monique, but they did not know Monique's true identity yet. Nodding at the guards, he stepped inside the plain room. The only occupant was seated on a metallic chair facing the door with a table in front of her. The room was well lit and he could see that Monique was dressed in black clothes, her hands tightly handcuffed behind her back. She looked surprisingly well. She seemed well-rested and well-fed. The Elves had certainly looked after her.

He could not help but regret it. Beside him, Galadriel's face was hard.

"Monique," Thranduil said. Monique gave a slow, malicious smile.

_"Thranduil Oropherion," _a chill went through as she spoke to him in his tongue. She had an accent but her words were flawless. _"We meet."_

"Save it," Thranduil said. "I do not want to hear any of it. Tell me why?"

"Why?" Monique asked incredulously. She gave a scorned laugh. "Look at you. An Elf, a king, and you did not realize what I was."

"Did you give up Dawn to them?"

"You were too trusting… it was pathetic."

"Did you?"

Monique stared at him.

"It was so easy to know what your weakness was." Monique said.

"She was just a child." Thranduil said. "Didn't that matter to you?"

"Not when she could lead you to us." Monique crossed her legs leisurely, smiling sweetly to him. "So what now? Will you take your revenge on me?"

Thranduil looked at her for a long while. Then he shook her head.

"No," Thranduil said. "I am not you. I am not the Enemy." Thranduil took a step back. "You should know Dawn is in a better place. You, however, will know a lot of pain."

"Then go on. Give it to me."

"I didn't say that I will be the one giving it." Thranduil said. "You dug the hole for yourself and you must lie in it." It was clearly what Monique did not expect. He tuned out whatever she said behind his back and stepped out of the holding cell, letting the guard lock it behind him and Galadriel.

"You did not say anything." Thranduil said to Galadriel.

"I wasn't there to say anything. I wanted to check on her." Galadriel said. "Morgoth's power is growing."

"Growing?"

"Morgoth's power managed to control and twist people's personalities. He managed to place them into darkness."

"How do you know that Monique is under this power?"

"Because she was being unreasonable. She was acting strange… And the more you speak to her now the more you realize she is darker in nature."

He found Caranthir waiting for them at the end of the hallway. "The Companions will take her to Celegorm's city," Caranthir said. "They will see what they can dig out from her."

"Meaning torture?" Thranduil asked.

Caranthir paused. "Not exactly," Caranthir said slowly. "There are other ways of obtaining info instead of using physical and mental torture."

"Do I want to know?"

"It will do her no harm." Caranthir promised. "But we will have to protect her once she tells us everything. The Enemy doesn't take it kindly when their members tell us secrets." Caranthir looked at him. "I would tell you not to think about it. You already have a lot in your plate."

"Another thing," Thranduil said. "Riley and his family… I would rather they not know about Monique… yet. Riley would go after her if he finds out Monique was the one who helped the Enemy kidnap Dawn."

Caranthir nodded.

"A wise choice. I will make sure of it. Riley's sons have been enrolled to one of the schools. Cassie has been given a place in a hospital."

"I am happy to hear it." Thranduil said, shaking Caranthir's hand. He noted that Caranthir always had his right hand gloved. Something about his right hand felt… strange.

Later before leaving for the ship, he spoke with Galadriel again.

"Celebrimbor sends you a gift," Galadriel said. She offered him a square mahogany box, its corners decorated in gold tendrils. Thranduil opened it. On deep red velvet was a large, flat coin. Thranduil's heart tightened. The coin had an imprint of a sunrise on its smooth surface. With numb fingers, he turned the coin and saw the emblem of his house.

"Did he say why he chose this particular design?" Thranduil asked, forcing his voice to be even.

"He said inspiration struck him."

_That is not the only thing that will strike him after I get my hands on him…_

But Thranduil only outwardly smiled.

"Thank you for passing it to me." He said.

"You are offended." Galadriel observed. Thranduil's forced smile slipped off his face.

"No." Thranduil said quietly. He rubbed the surface of the coin. "It is nothing."

Galadriel's hand touched his wrist, making him look up at her. She said nothing; the look of warm understanding was enough.

"You are going to be fine." Galadriel said.

"I hope so."

"Remember that it might be much easier than you think." Galadriel said. Thranduil gave a disbelieving laugh.

"I do not think so." He answered. Galadriel smiled and said nothing.

"So this is goodbye for now." Galadriel said.

"We will meet again."

"Soon, I hope," Galadriel said. After they exchanged their farewells, Thranduil made it to the docks, where the ship was waiting for them, the word, "Lady's Hope", written across its side. Oropher was already there. Spotting him, his father came over.

"Legolas is worrying, even if he is not saying anything."

"She is his wife, my daughter by marriage," Thranduil said. "Of course he will worry."

"But he says that apart from hearing nothing, he felt no fear or loss through the bond. Wherever she is, she is fine."

Thranduil glanced at the ship.

"This is going to be a very long voyage." Thranduil muttered. "And I am not too keen on reaching its destination." Oropher chuckled.

"Well, if the Valar want us to help, then the voyage will be much quicker than we anticipate."

"Glorfindel made up his mind?"

"Yes. He is staying. He says he will make sure Glandír does not go too heavy on Kate."

"How can he be harder on her than Glorfindel?"

"Oh, Glorfindel insists his younger brother is a much harsher weapons-master."

"Well, I do not want to be in Kate's place." Thranduil murmured.

"Any loose ends that you want to tie up?"

"Just one," Thranduil said. He pulled out his cell phone.

Riley was given a new cell phone with a different number. He was also forced to promise that he would not contact anyone out of the island.

"It is being monitored," Maglor had said. Riley had pointedly ignored Thranduil's presence. When he tried to speak to him, it had led to a much uglier fight. Thranduil did not try to speak to him again. This time, he began to type in Riley's number.

Oropher grabbed his wrist, stopping him from making the call.

"Don't." Oropher said. "Leave him be."

"I can't just leave." Thranduil said. He already did it once. He could not do it again. He won't be able to look at him in the eye if he did.

"Thranduil," Oropher said. "He just lost his daughter. It has barely been three weeks. He already made it clear he does not want to see your face anytime soon. Leave him be." Thranduil reluctantly cancelled it. "Judging from what I have heard about this man," Oropher continued. "He will come around on his own. For now, let him just find his footing on his own."

"You are right. He tends to think clearer when he is on his own," Thranduil said. The fact that he said it aloud made him place a firmer belief in it. It strengthened his wavering resolve.

"They will be fine here," Oropher said. "Maedhros and the others swore it. Besides, you have much important things to look at. There is no time for anything other than that."

Thranduil took in a deep breath and he pocketed his phone.

"Come on," Oropher said. "The ship's ready."

Once they boarded the ship, she was cast off. The engines were still not running and they felt the familiar tug as the water-sprites led them out into the ocean. The mists were heavy around the island, behaving like a cloak around the island. It was so heavy; in fact, that they nearly missed the sight of an unfamiliar looking ship which only Legolas was able to notice. On further looking, they saw that the ship was not just a ship. The mists were now separating slightly, allowing them a better sight. The words 'Titan's wrath' were printed along the ship's side.

"An aircraft carrier," Fion said faintly. "Why not?"

"Worried, Fion?" Thranduil asked dryly.

"They have an aircraft carrier!" Fion said. "Doesn't that disturb you?"

"As long as they do not use it against me, no," Thranduil answered. "Besides, we might be able to find ourselves some mean guns and rifles to operate with." He gave Fion a bright smile that Fion answered with an exasperated look.

"Sometimes you disturb me." Fion muttered, "Just as much as your son does."

"You alright, Fion?" Thranduil asked, grinning. "You look a little green around the gills."

"Funny," Fion muttered. "I am going under deck and try to lie down for a little while."

"Try not to vomit on any of the Noldor."

"Hm, I just might." Fion winked before leaving him.

He dug deep into his pocket and then pulled out the coin. He had left the box behind, seeing it was useless to carry around with him. The coin was well made and polished. He ran his fingers over the surface before taking a deep breath and flipping it in the air. He waited, watching it turn before falling into the palm of his hand. The emblem of his house stared up at him.

"Coincidence," he muttered to himself, returning it to his pocket.

"How are you feeling?" The new voice made him turn on his heels. Maedhros stood behind him, his hands deep in his pockets. He was dressed in dark blue shirt and black jeans, his hair bound back in a tight clip. He took a few steps forward. "I did not stop to ask. I am sorry for that."

"Situation is quickly changing. It is completely understandable. I feel fine." Thranduil answered.

"And how do you feel about the plan?"

"I already told you it was insane." Thranduil retorted. He thought back about Lee Pace and the abominable three Hobbit movies and grimaced. "I doubt they will take me seriously after the Hobbit franchise."

"Oh I do not know." Maedhros said seriously. Thranduil looked at him in suspicion. Maedhros sounded too serious. "I think Thranduil on screen was portrayed rather well."

"They will think I am some form of a lunatic."

Maedhros' lips twitched before becoming still but not before Thranduil caught the look.

"Alright, let us hear it." Thranduil said, facing him squarely. "You obviously are dying to say something to me."

"I just think…" Maedhros was truly fighting back a smile now and it was all in vain. "I just think that your statement about lunacy was rather true… on screen and otherwise."

Thranduil narrowed his eyes. His time bantering with Celeborn and his own father, coupled with his time in Eryn Lasgalen made him a seasoned dueller when it came to wits and speech.

"You know, I am sorry for being this stressed." Thranduil said, his words dripping in sugary sweetness. "I know exactly how to loosen up… some tales on Fëanor's firstborn and his… questionable relationships always gives me a good laugh whenever I need one."

Maedhros laughed, which no longer surprised Thranduil. He found that while the Fëanorians possessed a higher level of pride, they were not averse to some well-placed jokes for a laugh.

"I hope I did not frighten you off when I used Húro."

"I admit you caught me completely by surprise." Maedhros said. "I had not expected it of you."

"I did not expect it of me either." Thranduil said. Maedhros nodded.

They walked the length of the ship in silence, both of them with their hands deep in their pockets. He noticed that Maedhros and the other Noldor treated the cold without much trouble. He wondered if the Grinding Ice changed them, made them more immune to the harsh chill over the oceanic water.

"What was it like? In Angband?"

"Are you asking me from the point of a thrall or from a point of the High King of Noldor?" Maedhros asked.

"As a thrall who was also a High King of Noldor," Thranduil answered.

"It was terrible," Maedhros said. "It was… beyond words can explain and beyond imagination could conjure." Maedhros glanced at him, smiling faintly. Then he raised his hands in front of him, the wrists close together.

"There were these chains, I remember." He said. "They were looped around my hands and were hooked up high on a wall. Every time I would twist or move my hands, the chains would grow tighter, until I am hanging against the wall. These were these spikes on the inner side of the cuffs. They were blunt and small," Maedhros measured the size between his thumb and his index finger, "They were only uncomfortable when you first feel them but in all the tugging and pulling, the skin would peel off and the spikes would dig into your flesh. I drew blood many times on those cuffs." Maedhros clasped his hands behind his back again. "I wasn't put to work. No, I was a plaything. Something to torture and jeer at, because I was the son of Fëanor."

"I am sorry."

"Do not be." Maedhros smiled. "No one could have helped. One time, they… tried to take advantage of me. I am talking about all the orc captains."

"What happened?"

"They thought I had broken by then. Only I waited long enough and lured one in the front and wrung his neck using the same chains I was talking about earlier. They left me alone after that. Regarded me with fear," Maedhros sobered, his face suddenly darkening as he conjured a much terrible memory. "The worst was the time with Sauron."

"Sauron?"

"He was Morgoth's lieutenant at the time. He used to visit me frequently, and his sessions were a pleasant break from the torture but I am not sure if it was much more painful than the physical torture." Maedhros explained further, "He was learning to control his ways of seduction and his abilities in gaining trust of others. He also experimented on different thralls. It was not the kind of work that I wanted to know then, nor do I want to now. Where his seduction and soft speech was concerned, he was almost a natural. Everything else he learned from Morgoth. He was good, very good in fact. I almost believed him."

"Almost?"

"He appeared to be trusting. He would come, promising me light and warm food. He even washed my wounds and bound them, once. He told me he wished me no pain and he would take it all away if he could, if I just gave up what I set out to do." Maedhros' lips grew taut in a straight line. "It wasn't until he stepped into the darker side of my cell when I realized what he really was; a snake. Soon after he failed, Morgoth set me on the accursed chain, displayed to the world." Maedhros looked down at his hands, his left tracing the wrist of his right. "I can still feel Fingon's knife cutting through." He shook his head. "One thing the Valar had made sure was that none of us could ever forget what we had done in our past lives. We are forced to remember every word we uttered, every sweet and bitter memory. Every life we took and the Valar provided us with a name and a family for each corpse that fell from our swords." Maedhros looked at Thranduil, giving him a small smile. "Do you regret it, Thranduil Oropherion? Do you regret the fact that you need me now, which is why you cannot kill me?"

"I do not know if I regret it," Thranduil said. After hearing Maedhros' tale with such honesty, he could not help but answer in return. "But I do know I would have killed you if I had not met you in conditions other than this."

Maedhros stared at him, pondering for a while. Then he swiftly drew his sword. Thranduil stiffened, poised to move aside as Maedhros swiped his sword for him but no blow came. Instead, Maedhros knelt on one knee and offered Thranduil his sword, the hilt first.

"Take my life, then, and let there be no more bad blood between my people and yours."

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Anuben's furious cry ripped through the air. Maedhros' son by marriage stalked up to them but was stopped by Oropher, looking expressionless.

"Stand your ground!"

Maedhros' voice cut through the air like a whip. The Elves advancing immediately stopped; Maedhros harboured great respect from them.

"Take it," Maedhros said, raising his naked sword higher. "And take my life, and avenge your city. I should not have sacked Doriath."

Thranduil stared at him, and then finally enclosed his fingers on the hilt. He could feel the leather, the blade shimmering in the sunlight. Anuben struggled in Oropher's grasp, yelling oaths. The other Elves did not move a muscle. If Maedhros wanted this, they could not go against it, but the hostility was increasing. Thranduil looked back at Maedhros, still kneeling in front of him. His head was bowed, his neck full visible with his hair falling over one shoulder. Taking in a deep breath, he raised the blade.

He embedded the sword right in front of Maedhros, the hilt still vibrating from the force.

"I forgive you." Thranduil said quietly. "I had forgiven you long ago."

Maedhros raised himself on his knees and grabbed Thranduil's hand that still clasped the hilt of Maedhros' sword.

"You had your chance." Maedhros whispered to him. "You cannot use this against me in the future."

"I took it and I give you back your life freely."

Maedhros smiled. He raised himself on his feet. Their hands were still clasped over the hilt, the two kings looking at one another in mutual understanding. Anuben freed himself from Oropher's grasp, not looking too happy. He stalked off. Maedhros will probably be getting another confrontation in private.

"That was insane." Thranduil told him.

"It felt like the right thing to do." Maedhros answered.

"I could have killed you."

"But you didn't."

"I still could have."

"Let us just say I simply needed to test you for some personal reassurances."

Maedhros took a deep breath, his smile growing wider as the wind picked up, toying with their hair and their collars.

"I am tired," Maedhros said. "I haven't slept properly for nearly a week. I am going to go and get some shuteye."

Oropher and Thranduil watched him leave.

"That was-"Thranduil trailed off.

"Hard to explain," Oropher filled in. "How do you feel?"

"I feel calm." Thranduil said.

"You did the right thing." Oropher said, folding his arms over his chest. Thranduil remembered Maedhros' genuine smile.

"Yes, I suppose I did."

"You could have killed him."

"Yes."

"But you didn't."

"Why?"

"Because he is sincere," Thranduil said. And then he added that one thought he was trying to deny the whole time, "And I like him."

"I knew you did." The quiet gloating in Oropher's voice did not miss him.

"That admission cost me most of my pride," Thranduil said, mimicking what Oropher had said to him the day before. "Try not to rub it in." Oropher chuckled.

"I will try," Oropher said, before his soft voice became teasing, "But I, my son, cannot promise anything." With a quick wave of his hand, Oropher left him alone with his thoughts.

His thoughts typically turned towards the Fëanorians. Maedhros' action had not surprised him, but his own response to it definitely did. When he had first left Doriath, supporting his father's wounded body as they escaped the ashes, he had been seething with rage and lust for revenge. He would have gone back had it not been his father to consider. Now he felt… nothing. There was no rage, no misgiving. There was nothing there, just a tired form of acceptance of what had happened in the past. All these years without ever seeing the Elves who had sacked his city had cooled his emotions and all his experiences had matured him to a great extent.

Also, what little hatred was left as a residue in his heart had sparked when he first saw Celegorm. But the necessity of time had forced him to accept the Elves there. He felt as he somehow understood them better, and what was more, he felt as if he could trust them in order to keep his own people safe…

Thranduil scowled at his Ring on the index finger of his left hand.

"Stop messing with my mind." He told it.

Naturally, it did not reply.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

GOOD NEWS: I am finally going back to uni.

BAD NEWS: I won't be able to update as frequently. XD

**Susanne: **Thank you! I was so very touched to read such a heartfelt review! :) I understand your concern for Riley. I am not too happy with him out the picture but remember that he only found out Dawn's death barely three weeks ago. He has to grieve for it, the loss of his entire life, this new place that doesn't make sense. At the moment, he does not know who to trust or what to do. That doesn't mean he is out the picture though. :D He will come back to it, I am sure.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: IMPORTANT**

The storyline has been changed from this chapter. A Guest pointed out that Glaurung was a terrestrial dragon and he had no wings. Hence he could not be able to fly like I mentioned in the older version of this chapter.

Also, there was another problem. I said that as the Door crumbled then the return of the fell creatures started from smaller, easier to defeat creatures before moving to greater ones. So Glaurung could not have come out before the lesser dragons. It was just not possible.

Again, HUGE thanks to that Guest out there to take the time (and have the guts) to mention that detail. I certainly did not know it, and it was a good thing you pointed it out for me.

I might bend a few canonic rules but I will certainly NOT make any major canonic mistakes. If I do, tell me about it. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

_Undisclosed location,_

_Arda,_

She woke up in a dark room with a cheek pressed against the hard floor. She jolted upright, her back and legs groaning at the sudden use. Életh's braid fell forward as she looked around; she was in a small room with a pallet spread down on the floor. She judged it was a concrete room, which did not bode well for her. But where was she?

Her attention fell on another figure. Dressed in black and red uniform just like her, Arodis' braid was undone, her black hair streaming over the floor.

_"Wake up," _she urged, shaking her shoulder in alarm. Much to her relief, Arodis groaned and rolled over her back. They had both opted to wear pants instead of skirts, something Életh was now immensely thankful for.

_"Életh?" _Arodis asked, peering up at her. _"What-where are we?" _

Arodis groaned, pressing her hand against her head.

_"What happened?" _Arodis asked.

_"Grey Havens was captured. We were taken." _Életh rubbed her face, trying to remember. She remembered slamming against the wall and losing her cell phone. The man who has assailed her crushed her phone. She had shot him and killed three more. Then one of the men swung at her back of the hand and she remembered nothing more. But she could think of some sounds and some images in a blur.

_"We were drugged." _Életh muttered. She tugged on her outfit. It was a mercy that their clothes were still on. _"Why do they want us?"_

_"They want me," _Arodis said. Their hushed voices were loud in the dark and silent room. _"My father would have asked for my safety and," _Arodis slowly got up to her feet. _"Oh, Életh, they might want you for leverage."_

She thought briefly of her father in marriage. Thranduil was a caring Ellon, but he was bound by both duty and honour. And in this case, she was relieved to know that he will have to follow duty, which would force him to keep to the main objectives. Legolas, her husband, on the other hand, was someone she was worried about.

_"We have to find out a way from here." _She said. She made her way to the door and inspected it. It was heavy, tested for endurance. The lock was only one, and it was possible she could pick the lock. There was another door at the end of the room. Arodis and Életh went through it, finding a small, poor toilet and a washbasin.

"They want us alive." Arodis said, slipping back into English. Életh returned to the main door, listening intently outside. But she could hear nothing. She pulled out her hairpins and knelt to the floor.

"Are you insane?" Arodis hissed, pulling back her wrist.

"We have to leave." Életh insisted. But Arodis shook her head.

"Not immediately." She said. "They will be on their guard. They are probably waiting for us to wake up."

Életh relented after a bit more convincing. They did not know how long they waited, but they took turns resting. Arodis had a nasty bruise on her temple, which was fading slightly. She laid her head a bit heavily as she stretched out on the pallet, but otherwise she seemed fine. There was a small opening covered by a movable lid through which a tray was pushed inside. They ate carefully, worrying slightly about it being drugged. But hunger won out and they ate quickly. Nothing happened though. She did notice that she heard the man bringing the tray talking in some form of Arabic. It made her worry. Where were they?

Finally, Életh could not take it.

"We are breaking out of here." Életh said. She went to the door and picked the lock carefully. She heard a significant sound of the pin breaking. It took a few more tries to get it right.

"It is obviously not guarded if no man has come for us yet." Arodis observed. The satisfying click told them that the door was open. She grabbed Életh's wrist. "No wait!" She said. "Életh, we should separate ways from here."

"What!"

"Listen to me." Arodis urged. "I am going to be fine here. My father will not let any harm come to me-"

"Your father is nothing compared to Morgoth's lieutenants." Életh said.

"But at the moment my father still has some say." Arodis argued. "I will not be held in one place for long. This will let me access to some of the plans of the Enemy. I might be able to help from the inside."

"Father will never forgive me for leaving you behind," Életh said, thinking of Thranduil.

"There is nothing else to be done." Arodis insisted. "Times have changed. Rules have changed. We cannot play the honour and duty card here. Életh, I can do this." Életh sighed. The two Ellyth were not as close as their husbands were close but they had developed a friendship based on mutual understanding and a long-term enjoyment of each other's company. But this decision was dangerous, and risky, not to mention full out foolish if the Ellyn knew. She was certain all of them would throw fits. The thought would have been funny had it not been for the fact they were in risk of their lives.

"Be careful." Életh said, squeezing her hands.

"I will run out with you." Arodis said. "On a route you would not take. That way they will be divided."

There was no more time. Életh opened the door carefully, seeing a dark hallway. She could hear distant sounds of a TV running somewhere in the building.

"Go," Arodis hissed. Életh carefully crept through the hallway. She glanced outside of a passing window, pulling the curtain away lightly. She was on a higher floor. This meant she could escape to the roof. There was no way she could take the main door and fight all the men on her own.

She studied one of the windows, before opening it and stepping out on the narrow ledge. It was so narrow that only her toes gripped it. She could fall and break something if she slipped. The building was roughly built, the bricks helping her to climb up the walls to the roof. The place was strangely familiar, the scents, the people and the red flags.

Memory placed her where she was and she suddenly knew. Looking up at the rich red flags bearing the white crescent and star, she knew where she was.

She was in Turkey.

Where in Turkey was something she had to figure out on her own. Életh picked up a pace over the rooftops. But one thing was for sure. With her silver hair, and her pointed ears, she was heavily conspicuous. Not only that, there was no way she could trust any of the Fellowship's footholds. She was on her own.

She skidded to a halt, as two men came up on a neighbouring building, both of them holding guns and gesturing widely on her direction. Turning around she saw another set of men sprinting towards her.

And she was trapped.

oOo

_Lady's Hope,_

_The Sea,_

"AGAIN!" Oropher bellowed, stepping back as he readied his sword.

Thranduil tried to even his breathing, his sword at the ready but before he stepped Maedhros lunged at him. Retreating, he parried the blow. The three Ellyn circled one another warily, until Oropher and Maedhros engaged into a quick parry. The ship tipped side to side as the waves thrashed against the sides of the ship. The sun beat down on them, the salty breeze quickly drying their sweat. All of them had developed 'sea-legs' soon after they boarded the ship, and they practiced sword fighting since. Thranduil was remembering quickly, and Maedhros heard about the practice and decided to pitch in. That was nearly a week ago.

"I thought it was me you two were teaching." Thranduil called to the two Elves. Like clockwork, both the Elves disengaged and smoothly turned on him, making him instantly regret his words. He was caught between two able swords, both moving so fast that he barely could try to deflect them.

"You need more work," Maedhros said, after disarming him. "But you are getting better."

"Muscle memory is hard to forget." Oropher agreed. The two Ellyn had strained relationship before but now the two bonded over mutual enthusiasm for sword play. Thranduil was not too happy for it, because it meant more burning muscles and aching limbs. And Thranduil, at the moment, had more burning muscles and aching limbs.

"You are enjoying this too much." He told his father.

"Yes, it is very satisfying." Oropher agreed, sheathing his practice sword. "And you need a new sword."

"Oh, I would not worry about that," Maedhros said. But he did not explain further. He changed the subject. "Go under deck and wash. We will practice again in the evening."

He had returned to his cabin only to find his wife with her back to him, looking through some papers. She had not heard him come in and he felt the mischief rise in him and he crept behind his wife. He suddenly wound his arms around her waist and lifted her off her feet.

Arodien gave a loud shriek.

"Ah, you smell disgusting!"

"You wound me, Armes," Thranduil teased. "Take back your words!"

"I only speak the truth!" Arodien protested, laughing. "Now let me go!"

"No, no, no. I simply couldn't." His muscles groaned from the extended weight on his arms. "You must give me a price before I let you go."

"Price? What price?"

"I understand you have an extensive imagination. Use it."

Later he met with Thorontur and Thranduil again.

"Let us review again, shall we?" Thorontur said, straightening and becoming business-like.

"Haven't we reviewed enough?" Thranduil asked wearily. Thorontur gave him the darkest scowl he could muster.

"Don't annoy your advisor." Oropher called from his seat. "Valar knows he is the only one who puts up with you."

"Something of which I am immensely grateful," Thranduil said, for he could not forget the fact that Thorontur had helped him every day in more ways than one.

"Save the flattery," Thorontur muttered. Then he raised his voice. "Let us get to it then."

"We have the Prime Minister by the name of Edward Blake." Thranduil said. "Tall, white, blonde with charming personality-"

"Something you do not have," Thorontur quipped.

"I never liked you." Thranduil muttered.

"Play nice," Oropher said. "It is a wonder you two did not kill each other after my death."

"Common enemy gives purpose," Thorontur said.

"I do not even know why we are doing this!" Thranduil said, throwing up his hands. "This is ridiculous, insane-"

"And completely like you," Oropher joked.

"I never did insane things." Thranduil ground out. The loud, mocking laughter from both Oropher and Thorontur drowned his words.

"Oh, that is rich," Thorontur said, laughing. "'Never did insane things'! Your entire life is insane-"

"It is not." Thranduil muttered.

"And his endless war with trees," Oropher said, making Thorontur laugh again. Thranduil realized that they did not continue with the summary. But he wasn't complaining.

Thranduil saw, a few days later, just what he was going to wear. Arodien had been laughing so hard a few days back. And now he knew why.

The outfit, light green breaches, with white full-sleeved shirt, and dark green tunic with lightly patterned leaves. The robe was deep green-black with thin veins of embroidery along the edges and the hem. Long ago, it would have been a wonderful piece of work.

In the modern world, it was terrible.

"No." Thranduil said flatly.

"Thranduil-"

"I refuse to wear something so…so archaic!"

"Archaic will define us perfectly." Oropher said dryly.

"There is no way I am wearing that." Thranduil said firmly. It was true he loved the comfort of it, but added to the movies and the declaration they were going to it, he was going to be a laughing stock. Thranduil felt misery welling up into his heart.

"Oh it is not that terrible," Thorontur said his voice overly bright. "Look at it. It is aged, old-fashioned, archaic, out-dated, antiquated-"

"I get the idea." Thranduil interrupted. "I am still not wearing it."

"Then what?" Oropher asked impatiently.

"Coat and tie," Thranduil said, pausing before adding, "The entire suit, in fact."

Thorontur chuckled. It took Thranduil a few more tries before he finally got what he wanted. Maedhros also flatly refused to wear such an outfit and chose Thranduil's style as well. The rest of the days were uneventful, except that Arodien had made friends among the Noldorin Ellyn. Thranduil noticed that he was treated with more genuine warmth than before. Before all the Noldorin treated him warily. But this time he seemed to have gained their respect. As for Maedhros, the Elf was more open with smiles and jokes though he was more serious than most of the people he had met.

As for Legolas, the Elf had stayed quiet and subdued. He slept little but Thranduil knew he was stubborn. There was nothing he could do to comfort Legolas when it came to Életh. Only time will tell about Életh. Maedhros had given them some reassurance by sending some Hunters to find her. Celegorm had trained two factions under his command. One was Hunters and the other was Companions. The Hunters set foot in the outside world, worked undercover, looked after the descendants of the past notable figures of history. They also brought in more Men and Women to train as soldiers. The Companions were soldiers that protected Tol Antanë, sought out information from prisoners that brought into the island. Legolas, then, was given the duty of planning the city for Thranduil and speaking to Narí to form a proper alliance between them.

Fion, on the other hand, was behaving strangely for the past few days and decided to speak to him.

"How are you?" He asked one morning when they both watched the sun rise with hot coffee mugs in hand.

"I am fine," Fion said.

"There is something different about you." Thranduil said. Fion glanced at him, opening his mouth to deny it when Thranduil added, "Do not argue. I know you well enough, Fion, to know when you are upset." Fion pursed his lips, his fingers of one hand tracing the rim of his mug. Thranduil looked down at his hands. "It is your wife, isn't it?" Fion's continuous silence told him he was right. "Fion, I am so sorry-"

"It is strange isn't it?" Fion said, sounding bitter. "First I lost my son long ago, and now I lose my wife."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you know me well enough to know that I cope better without letting anyone know." Fion said. He took a careful sip of his hot beverage. "Do not tell Legolas or Dorián. Those two fools think they can alleviate any pain or burden I have and I know they already have a lot on their plates as it is."

Thranduil placed his hand over Fion's shoulder and squeezed it tight.

"I won't tell them." He promised.

The two friends stood there on deck, watching the sunrise.

Two days later, they finally witnessed the land they had to get to.

"We see the coastline," Maedhros said to Thranduil when he sought him out. "Get ready."

"Joy," Thranduil said. "This is going to be so much fun."

Maedhros looked amused.

"Maglor has reached the States," Maedhros said. "It will be a while before he reaches Washington."

"I kind of feel sorry for him."

"Do not be. It isn't him that is portrayed in movies. Hence it will be easy for him to command respect."

"Humph."

"Any last words?"

"Lee Pace is a terrible actor."

"No he isn't." Maedhros said a smile quirking his lips upwards in a way that only could be defined as playfulness. "He has taken your looks but mistook your personality for mine."

"I hate the Noldor too."

"And there is nothing you could do about it." Maedhros said. "After all you should have killed me when you had the chance."

Thranduil burst out laughing.

oOo

_Turkey,_

_Arda,_

Never again will she question the comfort of wearing boots.

She leaned back against the garbage can, hidden from view of the street. Her feet were not aching the least; that was the extent of the boots' comfort. Her calves, and her chest, on the other hand, were burning. She only managed to get her breathing controlled.

She lost the men following her on the roof by jumping down and racing through the streets. The normal chaos was in her favour. And she was right; they wanted her alive. They didn't dare to use their guns on her or the crowd. She ran and ran and did not look back. Not until she finally turned up into this small alley and hid behind the cans. Her pants had ripped during the race, and she had pulled on a forgotten jacket to hide the black and red shirt she wore. She looked down at the Fellowship emblem. She had to discard her clothes, find new ones and disguise herself. Blend into the crowd. There was no one she could trust.

She uneasily twisted the scarf from her wrist, feeling a little guilty for stealing it. She wrapped the scarf around her hair, covering the tips of her ears expertly as well as hiding the silver sheen of her hair. Breathing evenly now, she twisted the marriage ring on her right index finger. She had been cut off while speaking to Legolas and she hoped he did not become too worried. She was afraid he might try to locate her. He would be stuck in a foolish hunt for her when there were more important things to be done. She felt her bond to him, resonating between them in a steady hum. At least he will know she is fine, wherever she is.

She was in Istanbul, in fact. She remembered a brief trip three years ago when they were hunting down a lead. They found it and managed to get the man talking.

Actually, she was one who had gotten the man talking.

She grimaced, not wanting to remember. It had all started with her interest in interrogation skills. The Fellowship decided to teach her. Some of them were easy to learn… some of them were bloody. But back then they had to learn to survive, to carry their own weight around. Just like Thranduil kept some of his secrets, all of them kept their own. Some of them were simply not the type to tell.

Életh rubbed her finger on her temple. She had to make it out of here in one piece. She had to disappear. Getting up from her hideout, she dusted the back of her clothes before stepping into the main street.

She nicked wallet here, and quickly took enough money to buy herself a dye, contact lenses and a set of ordinary clothes. She found a beaten up hotel to stay in, with a small moth-eaten bed and a cracked mirror in the bathroom. Staring at herself in the mirror, she gazed at her long hair in disgust. The time for long dresses and balls were over. She took scissors and cut her hair to shoulder length. The dye gave her hair a deep black colour. The contact lenses gave her dark brown eyes. She looked reasonably normal, though her long face and high cheekbones made her stood out. That she could not help. Dressed now in dark blue shirt and jeans with a cap to hide her ears, she looked alright. Then she glanced down at her marriage ring on her index finger. This was simply too obvious. Sighing, and giving a silent apology to her husband she knew he could not hear, she twisted the ring off her finger and pocketed it, intending to find some chain or rope to thread it with.

She doubted Arodis went too far. After all, she planned to get captured for the sole reasons to work in the Enemy's lines. She just hoped she did not get captured. In this way, Dorián and Arodis were well-suited; both were drawn to spy work.

On the other hand, she could do something as well. Wisdom told her to leave the city immediately, but instinct told her to stay put. There might be something she could find as well.

It was night though. She went to the flimsy bed and lay back, crossing her ankles. Smell came from the bed but she didn't care.

She lived a lot worse.

oOo

_Door of Night,_

_Aman,_

_"Eärendil, why are we here?" _Manwë asked as they neared the Door of Night. He turned to look at the Elf leading the ship, wearing light grey shirt and dark breeches. His hair was pulled back in a leather band, his face drawn in stress.

_"You will see."_ Eärendil only said. He looked up, seeing the Eagles forming three tight concentric circles around over them, progressing as the ship advanced.

Manwë's another question died in his throat as they neared the Door.

The ground where the Door met was crawling with smaller versions of dragons. All of them were in different colors. Some were brown, other mustard golden, and still others deep green or vivid blue.

_"They are guarding it," _Tulkas realized. _"They are guarding the Door, making sure nobody intervened in trying to stop it from crumbling."_

Above them the Eagles shrieked in anger and rage, seeing the dragons below them. The dragons lifted their slim, long heads and gave loud screams of their own, their voices sharp over the sea shores. This was what Eärendil wanted to show them.

The Door itself was crumbling on the top. The cracks were larger now, and the bits of dust and rubble rested at its foot, with dragons stepping over them with strong claws, their long tails whipping back and forth. They shrieked as the ship progressively came closer. Eärendil's ship slowed. There was no way for them to get on the ground. Manwë's throat tightened.

_"Our powers are dying," _Varda said, coming to stand beside her husband. She had arrived to accept Eärendil's request to come aboard. _"The Door was crumbling because of it."_

Then the Door shook, the cracks going through it. Then the ground shook, the dragons lifting off the ground, shrieking as the vibrations passed through the Door into the ground and the waters. The ship rocked violently. The upper part of the Door cracked and fell to the ground. The ground shook, the waters sloshing at the sides of the ship.

"MANWË!" Aulë cried.

From the Void, some…thing- crawled out. First came a slim, long head of several feet in length, its teeth were long and pointed, slightly yellowed. The snout was loud, and the great eyes were similar to the Eye of Sauron. There were horns on the head, with smooth, closely knit deep green scales over the neck that seemed to go on forever. And then the body came out, the claws of his forelimbs clicking over the remaining part of the Door. The belly was just as soft as it always was. And then the tail finally came into view. The end of it was heavy, bulbous. If it were to lengthen his body, he would have reached the sky and breathed fire on the Eagles.

Smaug.

But he took in a deep breath and exhaled with a puff of heavy smoke.

"At last," his voice was smooth, deep and rumbling. The two words were eloquently spoken. "The air smells fresh…. Too fresh for my liking." The head moved low, until Smaug looked at the inhabitants of the ship. "Perhaps a few corpses will make the air smell… sweeter."

"Get you gone from this place!" Manwë commanded, hand tightening over his sword. Smaug threw his head back and laughed. He lengthened his wings, supple and leathery, tipped with claws where they would fold. It mocked them.

"Oh now that is a fine joke!" Smaug's tongue flicked outward, running lightly over the pointed teeth. "You are nothing to me and my master."

"Your master will not care an ounce for your abilities. He will have you dead if that suits his purpose." Manwë said.

Smaug narrowed his eyes at them.

"As long as I see the world burn, I have no complains." Smaug did not wait for an answer. He flapped his wings, creating a current of air before lifting off the ground.

"_Stop him."_ Manwë ordered Tulkas and Aulë. They barely moved when the dragon looked down at them. A deep rumble sounded in the dragon's throat, like stones grinding against each other. It sounded like a chuckle.

"Your weapons will not hurt me." The dragon sneered.

"I am going to wipe you all," the dragon said. The rumbling laughter came in waves through his throat. "There is nothing you could do to stop my master."

Manwë raised his sword, the blade glimmering in the starlight. Taking the signal, two of the Eagles swooped in, their claws out for Smaug. But the dragon gave a loud roar, causing the air to shift heavily, and pushing the Eagles back. The dragon took into the air, passing the ship and the Eagles.

_"GET HIM!"_

_"Manwë,"_ Varda cried, reaching for her husband. But Manwë was always out of reach as he took large strides along the ship's deck. Large Eagles swirled above them in concentric circles, one by one racing after the escaping dragon.

_"GET HIM!"_

_"Manwë!"_ Varda's voice was lost in the thunderous winds, stirred by the Eagles' wings. She stumbled as the ship rocked violently. She stood up, strode forward but tripped again over her midnight dress, grabbing her husband's belt for support. "_Manwë_," she whispered, fingers tugging on his belt. Manwë looked down as if seeing her there for the first time. "_You cannot stop him,"_ she continued in her whispered tone._ "We cannot stop this… any of this."_

Behind them the door broke, the debris falling on the ground and causing the earth to quake. Only half of it was left standing.

_"Find the source."_ Manwë said, turning around to face the other Valar. Tulkas frowned.

_"What?"_

_"Find the source of what is breaking this door!"_

_"Manwë-"_

_"FIND IT!"_

_"THERE IS NO SOURCE!"_ Tulkas bellowed in return. The two of them came nose to nose. Then he lowered his voice, the words coming out in a strangled tone, _"Manwë… there is nothing there to find. There is no source for this. This is just… a cycle we cannot stop."_

Laughter, dark, deep and chaotic filled the air. The ship shifted in the churning waves and Manwë looked back at the half broken Door of Night. A great red eye, with a golden iris and a black pupil stared down at them from the Void. Manwë's throat tightened as he beheld it. The smaller dragons, smaller in figure as well as in mind, clustered at the Door like new children.

_"BROTHER!"_ He roared. "_DARE NOT LEAVE YOUR PLACE, OR YOU WILL BE FORCED TO RETURN TO IT!"_

Perhaps Melkor had no vocal skills beyond laughter in the Void, or the fallen had thought it more fitting to leave no response, but laughter filled the air before the eye shifted and all they saw was a glowing black darkness beyond the breaking door.

Manwë's hand tightened over the hilt of his sword.

oOo

_London,_

_England,_

The ground rumbled, and they heard a whoosh through the air. The air blew around them in a way Thranduil felt familiar… as a memory long past. Thranduil looked up.

"Eagles," Thranduil whispered.

Above them one of Manwë's great Eagles soared, flapping its great wings. Its feathers glinted like molten gold as they caught the sunlight. The Eagle gave a loud cry, its shadow covering a large part of the city as it circled above them. They heard murmurs around them and people were taking out their cell phones to take pictures.

"Typical," Legolas said, rolling his eyes. He had developed a reasonable good mood. Életh was fine, Legolas told them. He did not know where she was, or what she could be doing. But he knew she was fine. Maybe a bit worn out, but better. It had made him felt considerable light-hearted.

"I never thought I would see such a sight here in Arda." Oropher said. "Not now at least."

"The scientists have placed these birds under protection, not that they need any." Maedhros said, standing beside them. "Eagles are possessive of their nests and eggs. If they try to harm even one of them, all of them will overrun the entire Mannish population here."

"They seem to be… protecting something." Thranduil said, frowning. The Eagle's behaviour was odd. It continued to circle over them, its eye tilted towards the ground.

"Or keeping an eye on something," Maedhros said. "Come on, we have work to do."

"How exactly do you plan to bring all of this together?"

"We speak to the Prime Minister."

"As if he will be willing of speaking to us."

"Oh do not worry. I made sure I had the help of a few people to arrange a meeting." Maedhros said, before putting on a terrible Irish accent. "It is for the best, yeah?"

"Come on," Thranduil said. "Let us get to it while we still have some daylight."

But Maedhros frowned.

"What is wrong?" Thranduil asked.

"The Hunters told me, Hanon and Noron, Mithrandir and Radagast were waiting for you here." Maedhros said. "But where are they?"

"I did not know they were here."

"I had no intention of telling you until we reached here." Maedhros' frown deepened. "Something is wrong. There has to be a reason why they aren't here. But it cannot be helped. Let's go."

They found series of black jeeps with tinted windows waiting for them. In front of the black jeep, he saw an Elf standing in wait, his hands deep into his pockets. He was dressed in brown pants and a striped polo shirt. His black hair was cut to his shoulders, swept back.

"Mithon!" Thranduil called in surprised joy. The Elf looked up, smiling brightly when he saw him.

"Sire!" Mithon said. Thranduil stopped his bow by pulling him into a tight embrace.

"It is good to see you." Thranduil said, pulling back. He was relieved to see that Mithon was content. He seemed well rested and completely himself. The dark circles underneath his eyes were gone. "But Mellon-"

"He is fine." Mithon said, smiling. He took out his cell phone and showed it to Thranduil. He looked at the screen, and he saw Mellon, tired but much healthier than the last time he set his eyes on him, leaning against the arm of a grizzled old Man, his hair salt and pepper. Mellon himself had kept his hair short, his black hair now a colour light brown from the stress he endured in his captivity. There were lines around his eyes and mouth like wrinkles. "His strength is coming up and they are teaching him to speak English and learn to keep himself strong. He is in good hands and that is why I have decided to return to duty, if you will have me."

"Are you kidding me?" Thranduil asked, glancing over his shoulder at his loyal advisor. "I get to have someone who won't annoy me all the time with politics and-"

Thorontur smacked him upside the head. Oropher gave a tired sigh.

"Let it go, Thorontur." He told him.

"You are practically worthless," Thorontur told Thranduil.

"And still you need me to act the role of a king."

"Precisely… act," Thorontur answered.

"I see nothing changed since I left," Mithon observed.

"Nothing," Oropher said. "Though I kept hoping that they had matured but no…"

Once they were done laughing, they climbed into the jeeps.

The Prime Minister worked at 101 Downing Street and that was where they were headed. Maedhros handled everything and they were checked for weaponry, which none of them carried. They did not need to, when Thranduil's Ring of Storm was with them. A shadow crossed over them and he glanced up, seeing the Eagle circle above them.

The room they were brought in was quaint, with lightly coloured carpets spread over the swept floor. The mantelpiece had an antique clock with the portraits of noble figures of the past held up on the walls. Sofas decorated the room, covered in light green velvet and green cushions. Golden and ivory tendrils and flowers adorned the walls were there were no portraits. Thranduil and Maedhros glanced at one another and came to a silent understanding. They were brought to a sitting room but not to a proper meeting room. The Prime Minister had not taken them seriously. This meeting was only to humour. Suddenly Thranduil's misgivings for this plan evaporated. Thranduil was not the kind to back down. And it offended him, admittedly the part of him that was a king, to be considered something so low as not to be given a proper thought. The door on a side opened and three Men filed in, all of them dressed in suits, well-muscled, with bulges on a side of the coat indicating they were armed. Then the Prime Minister entered. As Maedhros had asked, the Man had come alone to speak to them.

"Prime Minister," Thranduil said, inclining his head.

"So you are," Blake's lips curled slightly, "Thranduil Oropherion." Blake's voice sounding amused. Thranduil did not like it. "I am sorry but Tolkien's works are fiction. What is your name really?"

Húro awoke, responding to Thranduil's inner anger, but Thranduil wrestled his emotions. He saw that Maedhros' face was expressionless, like cool wax pouring over his features. Thranduil took a deep breath and imagine a cool endless lake with a deep bed.

Thomas Blake was tall, not fit but lean. There was nothing athletic about him, and it was clear that he had no form of military training or extensive exercise. His bright blue eyes peered at them with a keen sight of a politician, accessing them for threats to his work.

"Thranduil Oropherion truly is my name." Thranduil said evenly. He gestured at his father, who, in spite of being dressed in a suit, wore a large shining bead on a strand of hair at the side of his head. He had also cut short his hair to just below his shoulders. "This is my father, Oropher, one of the Elders who awoke long ago to the stars before the Sun even rose."

Blake's amused smile was still plastered on his white face. Then Thranduil gestured at Maedhros. "This is Maedhros, son of Fëanor. He has the right of being the High King of his people, which are larger in number." The hidden meaning was clear in the strained silence. Maedhros, having a large kingdom, had large amount of weaponry and Intel as well. Maedhros, like Thranduil, kept their hair swept back and braided out of their face. Their pointed ears were visible in the light.

"I trust you know why we are here." Maedhros said.

"Please," Blake said, gesturing at the seats. Thranduil and Maedhros sat, but Oropher came and stood beside an alert Man by the window, passing him a bright but polite smile before looking out. Thranduil hid a smile. Oropher knew how to ruffle feathers if he wanted to.

"I am aware that you have come to ask for permission for occupying Redwood." Blake said, crossing his legs and placing a hand over his ankle. He wore polished Italian shoes, he noticed. Drinks were served but none of them reached for it. Oropher completely refused. "There is absolutely no way Redwood could be given."

"You must understand," Maedhros spoke. "There is a war coming, and our people need to be settled in-"

"To be beggars on our land?" Blake asked.

"To be able to give any help," Maedhros said, his voice now sounding consoling. "I know that you have spoken to officials in Greenland-"

"It is my job," Blake said.

"Then you also know of a certain airbase training Elves in Greenland that the authorities tried to take out." Maedhros said. There was flicker in the Prime Minister's eyes; a recognition. Then it disappeared. His smile was gone too.

"Regardless," the Prime Minister said, standing up and smoothly buttoning the first button of his coat. Thranduil and Maedhros' lips tightened. They knew a dismissal when they saw one. "There is no way we can help your… kind. And Redwood forest cannot be placed under anyone's 'kingship'," Thranduil clenched his teeth. Blake used the word in hidden mockery. "I am afraid I cannot help until something arises to convince me better. And I must tell you that any unlawful occupation of Redwood forest will bring… war."

"Hey."

Oropher's voice sounded odd when it uttered the quiet word. They all turned their heads towards him. The Elf stood by a window, his arms crossed over a broad chest. He nodded with his chin towards the window he was standing beside. Thranduil pushed back his chair and joined him, looking out.

The sky was a mixture of light blue and red and orange. It was like as if the world had taken fire.

"Thranduil, look."

A creature that Thranduil had thought he would never see soared above them. They heard the Eagle shriek as a war cry and launch itself at the dragon. But the dragon blew fire, burning the Eagle. The burning carcass fell with an agonizing scream to the city, burying the buildings under it.

Thranduil Never thought he would see the dragon again. His chest constricted in fear for seeing something that should have been dead. In fact, he had looked at the bones resting deep on the water-bed of the Lake close to Greenwood in the crystal clear water. Now he was witnessing those very bones, now clothed in flesh flying above them.

The dragon was built in a lithe form, slithering like a snake, its figure like a reptile. The wings were like beaten leather, supple, soft but firm and strong. The scales were fortified and secure, and the claws were sharp, sharper than any weapon they could make. And as the dragon breathed, a glow appeared from between the scales, coming from a belly that was full of fire.

Smaug.

"Valar beyond," Maedhros breathed. "I had hoped he did not arise first."

"This is moving way too fast for my comfort," Thranduil said. The dragon's mouth pulled back, baring several rows of sharp teeth. They watched in fear, shock and awe, as the dragon's neck moved back, his chest swelling, the scales glowing lightly as he filled his belly with fire. Then with a large roar it let lose all of its breath, setting fire to numerous buildings. Screams rose high in the air as people burned.

And all they could do was watch.

Oropher turned his attention to Blake. The Prime Minister stared, mouth gaping.

"You mean something like that?" Oropher asked grimly.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**List of Canons:**

**Fire-drakes: **These are a type of dragons who breathe fire and were greater than the Cold-drakes. Smaug was also a fire-drake.

**Cold-drakes: **These CANNOT breathe fire and they are mostly land-crawling and legend has it to be more physically strong.

**Dragons: **These were created by Morgoth to be a part of his army as major artillery weapons. They are of two types; fire-drakes and cold-drakes.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_London,_

_England,_

Thranduil did not wait to hear further. He marched out of the room, ignoring the hustle of security. He could hear Maedhros' footsteps were light behind him. He threw open the main door and stepped out.

The air was cool when they stepped on English soil but now the air was stifling hot, making him regret his heavy coat. The streets were full of panicking people. In front of him, the buildings were on fire, the flames reaching out to the sky.

"Get the fires under control," they heard Blake give orders behind him. But Maedhros shook his hand.

"There is no way you can quench dragon fire, Prime Minister."

"He is right," Thranduil's voice sounded detached even to his own ears. He could hear Smaug's roar, echoing. Smaug's wings were producing currents of hot air around them. Thranduil finally shrugged off his coat, untying his tie and discarding them carelessly. Mithon appeared dressed in a suit with a gun in his hand.

"Where did you get that?" Thranduil knew they had all been checked for security, even their jeeps.  
>"We have our ways," Mithon answered.<p>

"Where are you going?" Maedhros demanded as Blake disappeared inside.

"Let him go and make whatever calls he wants to make." Thranduil said. "We have to get eyes on Smaug."

"To the end of the street then."

They met Legolas around the corner, his fair hair in disarray. He was dressed in civilian clothes a gun in his hand as well.

"All weapons are useless against him," Thranduil said, spotting the gun. "We will need heavy weapons with high penetrative power."

"And we have no such weapons." Maedhros said. They heard a loud groan and one of the burning buildings collapsed, fire blowing out of the debris. Legolas stepped towards it but Thranduil stopped him, gripping his elbow tightly.

"There is nothing we can do." Thranduil said. "Dragon fire does not stop until it destroys everything in its path."

"Unless we find a way to cut off its fuel." Maedhros said. "We need to trap it before it consumes the entire city."

"Military will not be able to make any move until Smaug is long gone and the people is dead." Legolas said. A stench had risen up, of smoke and burning flesh. The air was thick with smoke, and dying screams of the people trapped in the fire. The winds had picked up, wildly playing with their hair. Eagles' screeches reached them, looking for Smaug. As for them, it was a marvel to be so calm. Years of experience of all sorts of battles and strategy was not lost on them. They needed it to function, as well as to keep their sanity. Thranduil felt Húro tug at him, and he felt the familiar yearning to protect, to foster.

"I can try to contain it." Thranduil said.

"That is insane." Anuben said.

"It will be as dangerous as your actions in the harbour." Oropher warned.

"I do not think so." Thranduil said. "Back in Tol Antanë, I tried to control the waves and prevent them from moving further than the docks. But if I were to place a barrier-"

"Similar to the one we practiced?" Thranduil turned sharply to the new voice. Hanon and Noron strode to them. The street they were standing in was now empty; the screams had now faded to oblivion. But Smaug was still there, judging from the hurricane-like pattern of the wind. He looked to see two familiar figures standing behind the two Elves.

"Have you done this before?" Oropher asked, raising his brow.

"I have but not to the scale I am going to try now." Thranduil said.

"You will need help." One of the familiar figures said. A younger version of Mithrandir dressed in classy jeans and shirt would have raised a remark from Thranduil but it was not the time. He noticed how everyone was looking at him. Here, he was the leader. He was the one who gave the orders.

"Hanon and Noron, come with me." Thranduil said. "Both of you will start the barrier and I will extend and fortify it. Father, Anuben, Legolas and Maedhros, go and save the survivors. Mithrandir, you will have to push back the flames as much as you could. We need to save as many people as we could."

"My powers will not be enough." Mithrandir said.

"No," Thranduil said, thinking fast. "Radagast, the Eagles will have to go to the flames. Beat their wings and keep the fires from advancing."

"And what will that accomplish?" Radagast asked.

"The fires will have to burn where they are. When the fuel finishes they will have to burn out. The rest of the Eagles distract Smaug; keep him from burning anything else." Thranduil said. "Do not take any risks. Do not engage with any fire that will pose as life threats. Save your own life so that you can save more. Do not be foolish about it."

There were many abandoned cars with engines running that were left behind by their drivers. Thranduil took one and drove with all that was worth.

"There." Hanon said, when they reached the ends of the fire. "We have to make our stand there."

The car skidded to a halt and they moved out. Hanon and Noron started the enchantments. The barrier took place, the same as the ones they used on the high walls of Thranduil's Halls. Thranduil smoothened over the ridges in the barrier, pouring into the cracks, fortifying it, keeping the unlit buildings from catching fire. He was tiring, the Ring pulling on his reserves but it was surprisingly slow, like a small flame carefully eating away a matchstick.

But his action brought on an adverse effect. Smaug was high in the air, his body seeming so small. But then he grew larger, bigger, until he landed, the ground shaking from the impact.

"So," the Dragon hummed, his neck shaking from the resonance of his own voice. The body turned slightly, the belly glowing lightly beneath the heavy scales from fire. "We meet Thranduil, King of Mirkwood."

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at him.

"It has been too long." Smaug said, his voice crooning like singing a lullaby. "Give up. There is no hope for you to win this war. You will die and your people will die with you. You might as well try to fight with an unmoving wall."

Thranduil's lips curled upwards.

"You have evidently lost your skill of eloquent words, Smaug. Your tongue has gone a little rusty in your time in the Void."

"There is no way you can defeat me this time. Not with Melkor rising."

"You forget," Thranduil hissed. "You are defeated by a Man you thought was a commoner with nothing but a bow and an arrow. You will be defeated again and this time you will not be falling into lake but hurled as far as your body could be hurled!" Then Thranduil said, "As for Morgoth, he will be humiliated when defeat comes."

Smaug gave a chuckle.

"We will meet again, Thranduil Oropherion. But your blood is not mine. There is another who lusts for it." Smaug took off, his limbs beating off the attacking Eagles with ease. He did not light any further buildings but took off, growing smaller and smaller in the sunlight until he disappeared fully.

It continued on for hours until, it was near evening when the fires were somewhere near to be under control. The tallest of flames were trying to advance but the Eagles beat their wings, keeping the flames at bay. There was no way for the fires to diminish completely until a few days passed.

Thranduil was sitting on the pavement. He could see the park across the street, which now functioned like a makeshift hospital under the sky. The air was now full of ashes and smoke, making it uncomfortable to breathe. His throat tightened, seeing children among the burned with distraught parents. Some of them had none, the flames taking their loved ones.

Thranduil looked around. Most of the buildings were now smouldering. And he was tired but not as exhausted as he had been when he had protected the harbour. He had expressed his gratitude to both Hanon and Noron. They took it, though they had been more wiped out than he was. He heard that Oropher was safe. His father was making some sweeps in the part of London that was much violently hit. Legolas had gone up with Radagast and Mithrandir to speak with the Eagles. He had the luxury of resting. He didn't feel it, not with so many wounded across from him in a neighbourhood park, with only bed sheets serving as stretchers.

He jumped when he felt someone touch his shoulder. Looking up, he saw Maedhros smiling at him, offering him a bottle of water.

"Thanks." Thranduil said, taking a few eager sips.

"Arodien is in the ship. I have given orders to give her protection."

"Thank you."

Maedhros only nodded. They both sat, watching the park across the street. They could hear some coughs and crying of wounded, and the people scuffling about.

"It hurts to see how many of them have been injured." Maedhros said.

"We could have tried harder."

"It makes no change now."

"I do not think I will be able to tolerate songs like 'London bridge is falling down' for a while." Thranduil said. Maedhros nodded.

"I think this is another one of Great Fire of London to go down in history."

"Don't we have any healers to help?"

"Some of the Elves who accompanied us are skilled in healing but we can only heal so much. Millions of people are dead and hundreds of thousands more critically injured. The death toll is rising by the minute. We can only do so much."

Thranduil said nothing. They stayed silent until Maedhros stirred.

"Go and get some rest." Maedhros said, thumping his back. "You need it."

oOo

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

He slowly woke to the smell of pungent lotion. He was wearing no clothing, but he had blankets till his waist. His head was heavy, and he could barely process anything. He was drugged.

"_He is awake…"_

The familiar lilting Elven consoled him. An Elleth came into view, dressed in a long white gown and flowing sleeves embroidered in gold. Her caramel curls were swept back and held in place with a gold-flowered circlet.

"_Welcome, Haldir of Lórien," _the Elleth said, smiling at him. _"My healers call me Lady Grey. You are safe here, Lord. You were in an explosion that caused heavy burns and we had to perform multiple surgeries on you. You are drugged to keep the pain at bay."_

His eyes fluttered close, blocking the Elleth.

"_Rest. There will be time when you are needed."_

He drifted in and out of consciousness, the dull pain of his back wakening him from time to time.

"_He seems to be responding well to lesser dosage…"_

"_He will be fine. You did well, love."_

The next time he awoke, the Elleth and the unknown speaker was gone. There was an Elf who was sitting in front of him, one leg over the other, and his elbows resting on the armrests. The Elf was darker skinned than most, his straight long black hair framing his face. He had black gloves clasped in his left hand and his right hand… was strange. It was devoid of flesh, blood or bones and was made of polished metal, complete with joints and wires for blood vessels sticking close to the metal to keep from snagging. It moved just like a hand should. Haldir did not find the scene disturbing when it should, because the drugs pumping into his body was dulling him.

"Good evening, Haldir," the Elf said smoothly. His 'mechanical' hand clicked as he stroked his chin with it. "It is good to see you awake."

Haldir blinked slowly. He did not move, but he still felt oddly secure and safe.

"You are on a moving island of Tol Antanë," the Elf said. "In a city full of Healers where you are in one of the recovering houses. You suffered heavy burn wounds. Be advised," Caranthir said with a wry smile. "Some things about us you have undoubtedly heard but you are safe here and you will come to no harm. Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn are informed of your consciousness. They will be here shortly."

"Who are you?" His voice was croaked, parched from lack of water. The Elf raised a brow but said nothing.

"My name is Caranthir, son of Fëanor. Forgive me, I would give you water but you are not to be placed on your back and I do not know how to give you some without moving you. You might be wondering why I am here to speak to you when you do not know me. I have worked to bring wounded soldiers back to health," Caranthir's smile was small, cynical. "And back into field if they wanted to."

Haldir's eyes were starting to droop.

"Get some rest," Caranthir said. "Once you wake up, we will… build you up again."

His eyes fluttered close before Caranthir even finished his words.

oOo

_London,_

_England,_

_Dawn's face set in stone… Celegorm surrounded in a sea of fire… Kate standing on knoll, holding up a sword…Legolas, lying on his back, eyes closed in an eternal sleep…_

"Whoa! Easy! Easy!" The feminine voice immediately placed him where he was; back in a comfortable bed and his wife by his side. She was looking at him warily, both palms outwards in a silent gesture of peace. He found that he was gripping the sheets tightly in his fists. He took deep calming breaths and loosened his hold on the sheets.

"Did I do anything?" He asked quietly, dreading the answer.

"No, you were fine." Arodien said, placing her hands on his shoulders, prodding him back on the bed. But he did not budge.

"I thought I told you we should not sleep in the same bed from now on." Thranduil said, fixing her with a stern gaze that brooked no argument. But his wife was a Silva. If the House of Oropher was stubborn, the Silvan Elves had stubbornness to match it. She frowned at him back and placed her hands on her hips.

"I can hardly see any sense of what you said," Arodien retorted. They had that arrangement throughout the voyage. "So I decided to ignore it."

"You know what happened before!" Thranduil said, fully sitting up.

"And it hasn't happened since! You have learned the risk, so why place precautions when the chances are unlikely for you to react that way again!" Arodien returned sharply. Immediately Thranduil winced as if stung and looked away from his wife.

"Because it hurts me to hurt you," Thranduil whispered. "It shamed me, to see that I couldn't protect you from myself."

Arodien was taken aback from the confession and quickly dropped her defensive.

"Thranduil," she said, pressing her palm against his cheek. She sat by his side, her white nightdress gathering above her knees. "Please. Let me help you…"

"You cannot help me!" His voice was sharp, and he pushed back her hand.

Arodien recoiled.

"Fine," she said quietly. And Thranduil knew, that when Arodien took that tone, it meant that she was angry. "When you are ready to act like a husband and not like a coward afraid of his wife, then you come and find me." She hopped off the bed and pulled her dressing gown and stalked to the door.

"Wait," the quiet voice stopped her. "Stay. Please."

She stilled, one hand stretched out for the door. Then she dropped her hand and stalked back to him and silently went under the sheets and laid her head on his shoulder, his arm wound about her waist.

"We are going to be fine." Arodien said, voice muffled against his chest. "We will pull through, together."

Thranduil sighed.

"I hope so."

They fell back in silence.

"I am sorry." Thranduil said.

"I know. I am sorry too."

oOo

_Linville Gorge Wilderness,_

_Pisgah National Forest,_

_North Caroline, _

The forest was silent.

The trees were close together, dense and thick. The ground was bare, not letting any light come through the heavy leaves and branches. She walked barefoot through over the forest floor, her diminishing powers barely giving health to the surrounding trees. The animals retreated into their homes, recognizing the shift in the air.

"Yavannah!"

"I haven't changed my mind, Oromë." Yavannah said, calmly walking without hurrying her pace. The Forester hurried to meet her steps.

"I know you haven't." Oromë said. "But I am just saying for you to reconsider-"

"No, Oromë." Her voice was deep, possessing graceful femininity. "This war will bring death and destruction. The least I can do is blessing our side with bounty."

But Oromë frowned.

"Bounty? But here, why are you here?" Then Oromë's throat suddenly went dry, understanding her intent. "Unless…"

"Yes." Yavannah said. "They sleep here."

She stopped by one of the greater trees, and pressed her hand flat against the ridges of the bark.

"_Awaken."_

That one word was spoken by Yavannah but it was not her voice. The voice seemed to double, echoing and ringing slightly, full of power. At first nothing happened. But then the tree shifted, its branches bending slightly. The roots crawled back to the tree, the thick roots pressing on the soil surface and pushing the tree upwards. The roots hung limply as the tree rose and it stood several feet higher than them. Two branches, longer than the rest shook out, resembling arms and tipped with what looked like fingers. The head had bushy, unruly mass of moss and leaves resembling hair, and the mushrooms growing on its sides could very well behave like ornaments.

An Ent.

It bent slightly, peering at the Queen with large, green eyes that possessed no whites but had varying shades of brown in place of it.

"Hooo hum…" the Ent rumbled. "Time is fast and fast is time… and it takes a lot of time to understand what I said. But let us not be hasty when it comes to understanding it."

Oromë shook his head and said nothing, but Yavannah inclined her head.

"Indeed it takes time to understand the saying," Yavannah said. "But it is time to be a little hasty, Birdgiver. We need you and your kind. We need your help."

"Hoo hum!" The Ent sounded slightly alarmed. "Not so fast, Majesty! One Ent cannot make a decision on his own! To make a decision we need an Entmoot."

"Which is why I am awakening your brethren," Yavannah said. She turned to the others trees.

"_Awaken,"_ the voice vibrated through the ground. Silence fell, before the trees moved, lengthening the way Birdgiver did.

"Hoo hum! This is a sight to see! And an event to put into song. I must go and greet my companions."

The Ent took long strides forward and Yavannah followed at a slower pace.

"I suppose you are not just stopping here?" Oromë called to her. He made no signs of following her.

"No." Yavannah said, her gown trailing behind her. "I mean to awaken their leader as well."

oOo

_London,_

_England,_

"We need Redwood." Thranduil said. Everyone looked at him. "That is the only way we can move forward. At the same time I cannot afford a war over some piece of land."

"Then we will have to look for another plan." Oropher said.

"And then I think I found one." Maedhros said.

"I am open to ideas." Thranduil remarked dryly.

"We are going to go behind Blake's back." Maedhros said.

"And how exactly, short of overthrowing his power?"

"We are going to gain the people's approval." Maedhros said. Thranduil shot him a confused look and Maedhros added. "You have been offered an interview-"

"No," Thranduil said flatly.

"Thranduil, we need this. You have been accused for a child's murder as well as for her missing family. You need to clear the air a bit before you make your move. And if you are going to be their next door neighbour, you need to be a good one."

"He is right." Legolas and Oropher said in a low voice. Arodien nodded and took her hand. Thorontur did not say anything but the look on his face was enough to tell him he agreed too.

"Why aren't you given an interview?"

"Because I am not in the movies, or media, and even in the Silmarillion I am mentioned just as much as any other character. You, however, are something in the form of a mystery. People are drawn to you."

"Giving this interview will remove that mystery and with it people's interest." Thorontur said.

"And with it will coming understanding. They will be more attached to him." Maedhros answered. "It is necessary."

"Blake will never like this."

"Luckily you do not need to get permission from the Prime Minister to give an interview."

Thranduil glanced at his father again who only shrugged, as if saying 'your call'. Mithon, like always, was leaning beside the door, arms crossed and his face neutral. Mithon never gave his thoughts until Thranduil asked for them but right now he did not ask, knowing Mithon will only agree with the rest.

Thranduil sighed.

"Fine. Let us get it over with."

The interviewer was a woman by the name of Annie Jones who, in spite of being in her early forties, kept a great figure in a knee-length navy blue dress and a gold coloured belt. Her blonde hair was in perfect waves and Thranduil gave her a small, strained smile when they meet an hour before the interview.

"You have to do better than that." Maedhros said.

"I do not recall appointing you as my advisor!" Thranduil snapped.

"Older brothers are not often called for counselling but their counselling is received."

"I do not recall making you a brother either."

"Heavens, no!" Oropher's voice called from behind him. "I am sure I sired only one son. Two would have been too problematic."

"The joke went far too ahead." Thranduil muttered. He was dressed just like he wanted; in coat and tie.

Thranduil flatly refused the makeup. Maedhros, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Stop laughing!" Thranduil snapped at Maedhros, who sat behind his chair, calmly sipping coffee he managed to get from the refreshments.

"I am not." Maedhros answered.

"I can see your lips twitching."

"I am simply trying hard not to smile."

"Knowing you, your smiles are similar to laughing."

Maedhros chuckled.

"Well, you look exceptionally pretty." Maedhros uncrossed his legs and got up from his seat, buttoning his coat before coming to stand behind Thranduil. "Do you feel pretty?"

Thranduil scowled. But Maedhros only chuckled in reply.

"Come on. You are up in ten."

The set was designed with two comfortable sofas facing each other with a glass coffee table in between and some indoor plants placed to give the set a homey feel.

Thranduil felt claustrophobic in it. The interview started with the regular flare, jokes and idle chit chat. The audience listened to him carefully, expecting him to be some Man in a clever costume but it soon became clear, this was no Man.

"So now that we have established that you are genuinely not from our Race, tell us, what do you think of yourself in the movies?"

Thranduil let a small smile grace his features.

"I can assure you that the movie adaptations of me and my kin are far, far from the truth."

"So you are saying that the movies poorly portray you?"

"I am saying that the movies are just what they are; entertainment. Truth, however, is usually far different from it."

"Alright, now the fans of Lord of the Rings have a few questions. For example, who is your wife and what happened to her?"

It was a mutual agreement with Maedhros that they will keep the details of the Ellyth in their families as obscure as possible, but Thranduil also needed the support of the people. He needed to be liked, and that meant answering questions.

"Her name is Arodien. She is the daughter of one of my father's advisors. She is definitely a Sinda," Thranduil smiled quietly when he heard a few feminine shrieks coming from the audience.

"So, was she present throughout the time of the Hobbit or Lord of the Rings or…"

"No, she wasn't there. When we hear the Sea-longing, it is hard to avoid it. Some are not strong enough to refuse the longing and may Fade. My wife set sail when she felt the longing in the heart."

"And now that there is this… war coming, what will happen to the Elves when they feel the Sea-longing? After all, you said there is no peace in Valinor."

"The term is Aman for the continent." Thranduil said. Thranduil remembered his own longing, awoken after Dawn's death. It was still there, but it was not as strong, since he still had a purpose to complete. "Now in the events of the coming war, there is no place for sorrow. We will do what it takes to defeat the evil forces. We will not hesitate in taking the risks necessary to gain victory. You see, this is no ordinary war. We will have to set aside our differences and unite under one banner to fight for our freedom and for a peace where our families could live in without fear. Our defeat will mean infinity of thraldom and destruction."

"But the prophecy for Dagor Dagorath," the woman spoke the words slowly, unfamiliar with the lilting language, "states that good will win the war."

Thranduil smiled.

"Prophecies are nothing if we do not try to work hard to protect ourselves."

"So the dragon that attacked half of London and killed millions, it was Smaug?"

"Indeed," Thranduil said. "I think you have seen that Smaug is nothing like the CGI in the movies."

Murmurs of assent passed through the audience.

"Was the level of destruction that we have seen in London the same as in Dale?"

"It was more." Thranduil said. "The Lonely Mountain and Dale both were in ruins. London was fortunate enough not to be completely destroyed by the flames."

"And what was your alliance with the Men and Dwarves there?"

Thranduil guessed her question and smiled a little.

"I can assure you that I would have given them help had it been possible. The amount of soldiers shown in the movies takes multiple days to assemble and march to the Lonely Mountain. It cannot be done in bare few hours. What reservations I have with the Dwarves are nothing now that my main concern is to see my people through the war."

"Ok, now speaking of that, being a king you will have to establish amicable relations with the rest of the world leaders. What is your point of view on that? How will you manage it?"

"I understand a presence of a person that you considered fiction can be surprising and a bit unrealistic, but I can assure you that is the least of our concerns. I should be viewed as a leader with full capability to accommodate my people in a manner that will satisfy both us and the rest of the world. However, if someone acts against the basic laws of humanity, as you call it, and namely cause terrorism, I will have to react accordingly to it."

The message was clear; Thranduil was not here for games.

"I see." Annie said slowly, her smile faltering. She was sharp-minded for it as well. Then she said. "There is another thing we would like to know. Why did you come back?"

"Aman at that time was a peaceful time. At the time, I was content but when you are king to a place that had constant activity, things can get rather stale. I felt the yearning to return and so I did."

"And what was your thought when you came back?"

"Arda Marred, as we call it, had changed faces. The Race of Men had changed greatly. I came in time to witness Second World War" Thranduil paused, knowing he needed to word it carefully. "I was not aware of the situation at the time. I had to learn both German and English. I fought with and against the Nazis. My oath bound me with the Nazis but I worked with forces to bring Hitler down for his inhuman acts."

"How is it that you do not have your name recorded in our history?"

Thranduil smiled.

"I am an Elf blessed with immortality. If I were to be seen in pictures, I would have been caught interest. Faces can be similar but not to the point of being identical."

"After being in Germany, you were-"

"In England, after which I shifted to the States."

"And I understand you lived in the States by the name of Lee Kraft."

"Yes."

"The Homicide Detective."

"Yes." Thranduil's voice was quiet now.

"You were deemed missing and were later accused for murder of your partner's daughter."

"I was not missing." Thranduil said. "You see, as a king I am important in some matters and my presence was only bringing danger to those around me. I handed my resignation and left, believing that leaving without a word would keep people I care about safer."

"Now, we know about Dawn, the little girl who was kidnapped and this picture," Thranduil's throat and chest tightened as the TV screen between him and the interviewer showed the image of Dawn, looking like a ragdoll, her forehead bearing the cruel bloody carving of 'Aran' or 'king' on it, "was put on the news for the world to see. What can you tell me about this picture?"

"Dawn was my partner against crime and my dear friend's youngest and only daughter. I was there to hold her after her birth and she had grown attached to me. And I cared for my friend's children greatly. Dawn was a weakness the Enemy knew they could exploit. And they were right about it. I tried to go after them or save her, but it was too late."

"She was already died."

"No," Thranduil said. "She died in my arms." He swallowed dryly, grief threatening to hold him again. "It was internal bleeding and there was no way help could reach her in time."

"But you are Elves. You could have helped her."

"We are Elves, not super beings with the world in our fists. We have our limitations."

"So she is dead?"

"Yes. I regret to say she is, indeed, dead."

"And the missing family?"

"The family is placed under protection with some of my people until I am sure they are no longer under any threat. They are alive and well. In fact, their sons are given studies and Cassie, the mother, works as nurse as well. The family is well taken care of and given as much liberty as possible."

"I see. So tell me about yourself? What is your purpose to be here in London at this moment?"

"With the coming of war, my people need a place to call their own. We need a place to settle and live so that we may function to the maximum of our abilities." He noticed that people listened to him with rapt attention. Even the cameramen were listening to him. "And for that we found Redwood Forest to be the best place to settle. That is why we were to meet with Prime Minister Blake. However we were interrupted with the coming of Smaug and the consequent tragedy."

Annie nodded.

"But how can we expect to give up a part of our country. Maybe you might ask us more."

"I have the resources as well as the connections needed for my kingdom on my own. I simply need lands for me to establish my kingdom."

"You might pose a threat that way, especially to us."

"I can assure you my allegiance is with those who stand for good. England has nothing to fear from me."

The intent behind Thranduil's words was clear. Join the Enemy, and Thranduil will be their enemy. But the people have witnessed what the Enemy could do; they gave their children's blood for that witness. They were ready to be at Thranduil's side.

"Well, let us hope for the best then."

It wasn't a question or a remark that asked for a reply, so he gave none.

Looking around the set, he saw the men and women sitting in the audience, the cameras trained on him, watching and recording his every move and Thranduil felt like he was in a gilded cage, for the world to watch.

It sickened him.

The next few questions he did not remember, and he did not even remember what he answered for them.

oOo

_London,_

_England,_

"Not everyone would like me after that." Thranduil said.

"Then those people are just in denial for the reality." Maedhros said. "We cannot change that. In the meantime, I don't think Blake likes us very much." Maedhros said. He stretched out in his chair, his long burgundy hair falling over the back of his seat in a metallic clip set with ruby.

"What did he say?"

"He said that Redwood Forest is free to do as you please but the land will remain under the British government."

"Meaning I will be a puppet for them to command."

"Oh, I wouldn't think so. Blake is both a proud and a stubborn man. He knows that he could not fight the change coming but he is not willing to relinquish his power or even admit he lost this round. Don't worry, I doubt he will try to enforce his power over you. He is too sensible. However, this means we will have to make a trip to Russia and pick up the Dwarves."

"We will stay here." Arodien said, "The lesser people going, the better. Mithon and Anuben will be the ones accompanying you, the rest of us will wait here."

"Come on, Thranduil." Maedhros said.

"We are going now?"

"Yes, now! Our work has just begun!"

oOo

_Undisclosed location,_

_Arda,_

The door groaned open and Arodis lifted her head from the rough pallet spread on the ground. An Ellon stood in the doorway, blocking the light coming from outside. In the dark, his features were stretched and sinister, but he was, undoubtedly her father. They shared similar traits, making their blood relation unmistakeable.

"Arodis!"

Himben reached further, obviously to greet her with a father's love but Arodis retreated, spitting at her father's feet.

"Traitor," she hissed. "Murderer."

Himben's face hardened and he stepped back, bringing himself to full height.

"I did what I had to."

"You betrayed us!" Arodis hissed. "You betrayed me!"

"No, not you, never you," Himben said. "Thranduil is too weak to lead any of the Elves. We have to join forces with the-" the rest of Himben's voice was drowned out by Arodis' laugh of disbelief.

"I cannot believe I am hearing this." Arodis said, turning around with a hand pressed on her mouth before turning back to him. She waved a finger at him. "You may be my father in blood but I denounce you as my relative in everything else. You have no right over me."

"I am your father whether you like it or not." Himben said coldly. "That cannot change."

"King Thranduil trusted you." Arodis said, taking a step back. "He shouldn't have."

"You are right, he shouldn't." Himben said. "You will be safe here, little one."

"Do not call me that!" Arodis spat. Then she waved her hand around the small room, with the only furniture being the pallet spread on the ground. "You call me daughter and treat me like this. You shame me."

"Himben!" The new voice was full of powerful authority. The voice echoed in the room as the newcomer stepped into the doorway. He was an Elf, a tall one, with a hunched back with his skin unnaturally pale and hair unnaturally dark. Arodis had seen enough depictions of historical events to know it was Eöl.

"So," Arodis said, looking at her father. "You have stooped so low. I had hoped the reports were wrong, but it seems filth mingles with filth." Himben moved back in a step as if his daughter's words physically struck him.

But Eöl narrowed his eyes at the Elleth before backhanding her. Arodis' head spun to the side like a ragdoll's. Himben's mouth tightened.

"You will keep your silence, Elleth."

Arodis slowly turned back to him, dabbing her fingertips gingerly at the ends of her split lips.

"We are wanted above." Eöl said, turning his attention to Himben. "Come. Deal with her later."

Himben nodded and turned at his heel, Eöl already taking the lead. It was Arodis' voice that stopped him in his tracks.

"If you ever think that you will be forgiven after standing by and saying nothing while he hit me, then you are sorely mistaken!" Himben's mouth trembled but he hardened his features and stepped out the doorway, letting it close behind him. Arodis stumbled back to the wall and slid down it till she slumped into the floor, curling into herself to ease her trembling.

Himben, on the other hand, hurried to meet Eöl's steps.

"That wasn't necessary." Himben said angrily. Eöl was unaffected.

"She needed to know her place here as a prisoner."

"She is my daughter."

"Please," Eöl scoffed. "She may be your daughter but her status here is a prisoner until it is stated otherwise. After all, you are not the leader here."

That made Himben's steps falter, and Eöl slowed down with him.

"And why are you here, Eöl?"

"To see the Noldorin burn, I will do anything." Eöl said before turning on his heel and walking swiftly away.

oOo

_London,_

_England,_

"You never asked me how the Hunters travelled." Maedhros noted. Thranduil looked at him. Mithon and Anuben were standing a few feet behind them, both of them more heavily armed than they were. Anuben seemed to be teaching Mithon Quenya.

"I assumed by Sea." Thranduil said.

"No, not always." Maedhros said. "Travelling by air is much faster."

"So where is the plane?" Thranduil said. Maedhros smiled and looked to his side. But there was nothing there.

Then he caught it. He saw it by lightly tilting his head. Something was different. It felt like there was some form of glass in place. Then the glass disappeared, metal taking its place until an entire plane came into this.

"What is this, S.H.I.E.L.D?" Thranduil asked in disbelief. Maedhros burst out laughing.

"I never considered you the type to read comics."

"I am not. But I had a friend who loved them." Thranduil said, thinking of Riley, feeling the previous ache rising in him.

"Cloaking is actually a non-fiction phenomenon." Maedhros told him, pressing his hand on his back and guiding up the raft. "A lot of military planes use it but none of the countries admit it."

"So how does it function exactly?"

"I am not the type to know research details but I know that cloaking of material causes optic rays and… that's where I lost my interest." Thranduil chuckled, thinking of how Fëanor would disapprove his son's lack of interest. Maedhros quickly defended himself.

"Look, it works and it reflects… or deflects, I do not know… light to hide the plane."

Thranduil looked behind him once, taking in the abandoned warehouse.

"They will be fine." Maedhros said. "Radagast and Mithrandir are with them."

"I hope so." Thranduil said.

"Come on. You have to meet Trudy."

No sooner they boarded the plane, the raft went up and the plane took off. They directly hovered up, instead of taking the runway. He noticed the plane was built more for comfort than for practicality. And glancing at the tall, lean Elf beside him, Thranduil did not doubt this was Maedhros' taste. He spotted some small cabins, the doors slid open and groups of Elves in two and three talking and laughing amongst themselves. None of them seemed to notice Maedhros' presence, or perhaps they did but had the permission to still behave casually even if he was around. Maedhros took him to the cockpit where a young woman was piloting the plane. Trudy was a muscled woman, round-faced, somewhere in her mid-thirties with a tanned skin and her short black hair looking like it had been chopped unevenly. Dark brown eyes were set in the face and framed with thick eyelashes. At the moment she concentrated on flying the plane.

"Are you alright?" She asked, glancing once over her shoulder. Maedhros slid into the companion seat.

"Yes."

Immediately Trudy fired punches on Maedhros' shoulders, chest and sides.

"You lying, deceiving," she said, punctuating each word with a punch. Maedhros yelped and tried to defend himself, "conceited, proud, annoying, self-absorbed, stubborn, foolish, and reckless-"

"I did not do anything!" Maedhros protested. Trudy had kept one hand on the controls the whole time.

Thranduil would be lying if he said that he did not take great satisfaction in the scene.

"YOU LEFT ME BEHIND TO KNIT SCARVES AND HOLD TEA PARTIES IN TOL ANTANË!" Trudy shouted, punching the Fëanorian in his unprotected gut. Maedhros doubled in the pain. Thranduil cleared his throat. Trudy glanced over to him and immediately smiled brightly.

"Hello!" She said cheerfully. "I do not think we have met."

"No, we haven't." Thranduil said, fighting to keep his smile off his face. It amused him to no end to see the highly respectable Maedhros have at least one person who wasn't shy to express her views even in company. "Thranduil Oropherion, at you service."

"Oh, you are that other king." Trudy said, returning the hand that had been raining blows over Maedhros back to the controls. "Well I do believe you are much more sensible this oaf here-"

"Oaf!" Maedhros repeated, finally catching his breath and rubbing the areas that Thranduil did not doubt were bruised.

"You are one." Trudy muttered. Maedhros opened his mouth to argue but after Trudy fired him one of her dark scowls, Maedhros decided to keep quiet. Instead, he turned to Thranduil.

"Thranduil, this is Trudy." Maedhros said. "She was in foster care when we found her and brought her with us to Tol Antanë."

"Enchanted," Thranduil said dryly. "I do hope you do not intend to show Maedhros your displeasure further. Not that I would mind." Maedhros scowled. "It is just that I prefer not to die crashing into the ground."

"Oh do not worry," Maedhros said. "Trudy is a professional pilot. I trained her myself."

"And Valar have mercy for being saddled with an idiot like you," Trudy muttered under her breath.

"I should have taught you to mind your tongue."

"I just say what I see, my former mentor." Trudy said.

"You were speaking something about being left behind?" Thranduil asked. Trudy immediately shot Maedhros the blackest, foulest look she could muster. Maedhros looked unaffected though he recoiled slightly.

"That stubborn," Trudy cleared her throat, "I apologize for the words I use, but as I was saying, that stubborn arse left me in the Red Palace insisting he will call me when I am needed. But you know what he did?" Thranduil shook his head, firmly squashing his growing amusement. "He left me behind! Imagine that!"

Thranduil nodded solemnly. He had to admit, in the modern age, he liked the fact that women were much more outspoken than in the years when he was king long ago, when women were bound with stifling rules and useless etiquettes.

"And then I was stuck attending one party or the other, with absolutely no ships to take my bird out anywhere and I had to wear dresses-"

"You like dresses."

"That is beside the point." Trudy snapped. "are you sure you are alright?"

"I am fine."

"Good!" Trudy said, deflating slightly. "I can't give you back to your people with a dent in that pretty head of yours."

"We are not going back to Tol Antanë."

"I know where you want to go."

"Where I want to- How do you know?"

Trudy stayed silent.

"Please tell me you didn't."

This time Thranduil leisurely leaned back against the wall and folded his arms, enjoying the exchange. Maedhros dug into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

"You planted a listener in my phone!"

"You deserved it!"

"You- You," Maedhros pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger and exhaled. "Never mind. Set a course for Mirny. We have to speak to the Dwarves there."

"I know."

"Stop gloating. Just because you went under my guard once doesn't mean it will happen again." Maedhros got up from his seat, grimacing. Trudy hit him harder in the stomach than Thranduil expected. Which was pretty impressive, considering all his time practicing and he had never been able to disarm Maedhros in swordplay. "Just try not to crash the plane." Trudy snorted.

"Sure thing, Fire-head."

"I told you not to call me that." Judging from Maedhros' weary tone, it was clear this was an old exchange of words.

"Whatever you say, Red Giant," Trudy said, still looking disgruntled.

"Insolent child," Maedhros muttered, the door to the cockpit shutting close with a soft hiss. But like the time when they visited Amras' city, Maedhros' voice did not hold any bite. Quite the contrary, in fact.

"She seems to be strong-willed." Thranduil said.

"Miranda, Alice and Trudy will go well together." Maedhros said, tugging a loose strand of dark red hair that had been so insulted. "She was not always this strong-willed, but she is a survivor. Studying in Tol Antanë made her gain confidence, and she became more outspoken. It isn't something I encourage, because it makes her reckless, but she is fast thinker in tough situations."

"And you trust her."

"Oh, she is a fine woman. Very loyal. Has a five year old daughter back home. Her husband works with us in gathering intelligence."

"She knows what is coming?" Trudy had not bothered asking anything about them or what they had encountered in London. Either that she already knew or she lived in her own world, where she had a family back home and a former mentor's plane to pilot.

"I think the winds changed so that we could not pretend even if we wanted to."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

So here you guys might have noticed some links with Tempest: Modern Age.

Somebody once asked me what places Életh, Arodis and Arodien have in the story. In Modern Age, Thranduil was still finding his footing. Now you see him settling in, becoming more confident in his place.

In the first few drafts, women did not play much role, staying in true with Tolkien's nature to focus on the male characters rather than the female ones. Then I realized that if I am writing in modern age, then I would have to introduce female characters, which I liked because I want all the wives of the kings etc. etc. to play a role.

I apologize once again for not being able to reply to reviews. I am very sorry. I just couldn't find the time, with my uni starting once again.

Also, I regret to say that I will not be able to continue the rest of my stories right now. This story has a very deep plotline and I need to flesh out some characters because of the heavy role they play in the coming chapters as well as in the sequel. It takes a lot of my mind to write this story and I need to give this story the complete attention.

Also I will not be mentioning religions, any religions, in this story. Mentioning it is tied too close to the reality and I am uncomfortable in merging the real life and the fiction life together.

Also, 9/11 and all the events beyond it has NOT happened. This is one change I made in this story to keep it from being too complex and to honour the deceased's memory. However, there are some forms of enmity on the political ground.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_Jet,_

_The Skies,_

The bunk he was given was actually double bunks that he shared with Maedhros. The moment he saw the bunks he burst out laughing. They were built for the comfort of an Elf with normal height. Maedhros would have an uncomfortable time sleeping.

"Don't laugh," Maedhros said, inspecting the bunk with his hands resting on his hips.

"I will take the top if you like." Thranduil offered.

"No, thank you." Maedhros said. "I will take the sofas outside."

"They are not much longer."

"Well, it is better than this." Maedhros said, flicking his wrist at the bunk. "Do you mind?"

"No." Thranduil said. Maedhros pulled off his shirt and changed to more comfortable dark green polo half-sleeved one.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Nothing," Thranduil said, trying to abandon his smile. "It is just that, if you took a photo shoot like that, then I would be overwhelmingly overshadowed and you would have millions of fans without a problem."

Maedhros thought about it and burst out laughing.

"It is a good thing I am not interested then." Maedhros said. "Besides, I have a granddaughter."

"Imagine your daughter seeing you like that, your picture splashed across the cover of Vogue magazine." Maedhros chuckled. Thranduil sat down on the lower bunk, stretching out his legs and crossing his arms. "Imagine that, shirtless, or without clothes, with only a cloth covering-"

"Stop, please." Maedhros said.

"After you, you are called 'Maitimo'," Thranduil continued. It was comfy bunk, Thranduil thought, bouncing lightly on it in an un-kingly manner.

"You are going to make me regret my mother-name," Maedhros told him. He sat down on the bunk beside Thranduil. He reached to his bedside, and brought a tablet to his lap.

"So, about the Dwarves in Russia," Maedhros said. "There is something I should tell you, I did not expect there to be other Dwarves living around here. I thought the only ones alive were the ones living with us."

"There might even be others, but if there are then we haven't found them."

"So, Narí is the leader?"

"Yes, with Norí being his son."

They had left the tinted glass door open, so Anuben looked in.

"There is something you have to see."

"I do not care as long as my island is fine and the Door of Night had not broken." Maedhros said, not looking up.

"How about a Queen going in an interview without us knowing?"

That caught both of their attention.

"Who is it?"

"The Lady Arodien," Anuben said.

"Legolas' stubbornness has come from her side of the family, I swear," Thranduil muttered. Both of them got up and followed Anuben outside where the sofas were placed around a large TV screen mounted on the wall.

He saw Arodien sitting on a comfortable beige sofa with an anchor sitting across a desk. She was dressed in a light blue dress with slim brown belt around the waist.

"What is she doing?" Thranduil said in disbelief. Maedhros chuckled.

"Clever girl," Maedhros is in approval.

"You wouldn't say that if it were your wife."

"But it isn't." Maedhros said. "And she has a good head on her shoulders, I will grant her that."

"So tell me," the anchor said, leaning forward. Arodien was still smiling warmly. "What can you tell us about your husband and your son?"

"Well, there is not much to say. Both of them are very much alike in some ways and different in others. Both, however, are capable of their leadership roles."

"Now surely you know how much your husband and your son are well… sought for."

The anchor began laughing as various hoots and whistles of feminine nature sounded and only Thranduil, who knew his wife well enough, noticed the slight look of annoyance before it disappeared completely. The smile was back and she slowly shifted her hair back from her face with a finger.

"I am well aware," Arodien said, smiling.

"How do you feel about it?"

"Well, as a wife, I am pretty possessive of him as he is of me." The audience booed in disappointment. The anchor laughed.

"And I hope your son is available for the ladies!"

"No, unfortunately," Arodien said. "He is married, with a son in fact."

"And your grandson is married too?"

"Oh no," Arodien said. Then the women shrieked in the audience. "Oh dear," Arodien said, placing her hand on her mouth before lifting it. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Well, it is too late now," Thranduil barely heard the anchor say.

The longer he listened to her, the more his misgivings disappeared. Arodien was a natural. She knew what to say and what to do. He realized what she was doing.

And she was taking the cameras off of him. She was trying to be the friendly face of her people, open, loving and kind.

"I like her," Maedhros said. "She knows how to handle the cameras, not like you."

"Thanks, I appreciate the compliment."

"I know." Maedhros replied in kind. "Well, I would say she is good at it. I would suggest letting her handle this part of your life."

Just before evening fell, he couldn't find Maedhros anywhere. He finally made his way to the cockpit.

"Hey, I didn't think I would see here." Trudy said. "What brings you up to the control?" There was an empty coffee mug in a holder beside her.

"Where is Maedhros?" Thranduil asked. "I couldn't find him anywhere."

"Oh, he is upstairs." Trudy said.

"Upstairs?" There was no upstairs. "Upstairs where?"

"He is on top of the plane." Trudy said.

"You are joking, right?" Thranduil asked. Trudy laughed and gestured at the seat beside her, inviting him. He took the seat, bring his legs up and placing his arms around his knees.

"Maedhros loves the skies." Trudy said. "He told me it made him feel free of worries and care. There was nothing up there except for fresh air and… him."

Thranduil smiled. The wide windshields showed them nothing but blue skies and the ocean below them, all of which was deep blue in colour. Only a few specks of white clouds decorated the sky. He knew the feeling of freedom in the wind. He himself escaped to it many times. But he loved speed, the feel of his horse galloping under him and the rich forest aroma and the wind whipping through his hair.

"So how does he stay alive up there?"

"He has this suit… designed by Caranthir because he didn't want to lose his older brother. It keeps him in place. He would have taken a jump-" Thranduil looked at her in disbelief. "Oh, he has done it before, jumping into the oceans. Maglor is wilder than him. He goes out with nothing but a speedboat in that part of ocean which is renowned for sharks."

"I am not sure I trust any of them to make a sensible judgement."

"Oh, they are a fine lot." Trudy said. "I know about their past. All the killings and politics… but now they are different. I am not just saying it because they are just about the only family I ever had. They are different. They laugh and talk amongst themselves but whenever they meet someone they had a past with, especially a regrettable one, they simply clam up."

"I will remember that." Trudy 'humphed' in reply. Then Thranduil spotted a photograph beside the empty mug.

"My daughter," Trudy said. Thranduil picked up the photograph of a girl with Trudy's round face and eyes, playing in the sand, "Maria."

"It is a beautiful name."

"Thank you."

"Why do you work? You have daughter you obviously love."

"There is a war coming." Trudy said. "And even the housewives will have to go out and work for the war. I do not think most of the civilian jobs will be around then." Thranduil placed the photograph back in its slot.

"So about Maedhros… is there only one suit like that?"

"Oh, no. There is another one. Get someone to help you into it. It is a bit complicated around the back."

The suit turned out to not only be a bit complicated but a little heavy. He felt like someone was squeezing him everywhere. Finally he was led to a small room that only contained a set of stairs that led up to a metallic latch over the ceiling.

"You are going to be fine!" The Elf who had helped him dress into the suit said to him before stepping out the room and opening the door.

"_I have no idea what I am doing here." _Thranduil muttered. Surprisingly he did not lose his footing in the rapid air coming from the now open latch. He supposed it was the suit. He took the first step and then another, going up the stairs until he came directly on the top of the plane.

The sun was glorious as it neared the horizon for sunset. It was like a large, orange-coloured ball, splashing just a tint of red and pink colours over the sky. The ocean reflected the colours, the regular whites making the ocean look like a sea of sapphires reflecting light.

He was not alone on the surface of the plane. Maedhros stood, in a complete suit and helmet just like he was.

"I didn't expect you to come up here." Maedhros' voice came over the comm. Link.

"And let you have all the fun?" Thranduil could breathe easily, he noticed. Maedhros was much further than him, almost near the nose of the plane.

"Come in the front with me."

Thranduil looked down, the distance between them very intimidating.

"The soles of the feet of the suit are strongly magnetic. You are not going to fall."

Thranduil took the steps and he found that his footing was secure. Maedhros was smiling at him as he came closer.

"The suit is designed to withstand pressure at this height. It works to constrict the body, keep the pressure inside the body as normal as it would be in the ground. It aids the breathing. The helmet carefully takes the oxygen so that you can function just as well as you could on ground."

"Caranthir designed it."

"I see you have been talking to Trudy."

He couldn't feel the wind per se but he could feel it press upon his body suit. But there was this wildness up there that was unlike any other. He felt like he was alive, free, detached from the world. He felt like he was forgotten. He felt like he had escaped his burdens.

He understood why Maedhros enjoyed it.

"Who can ever miss this?" Maedhros said. Thranduil looked at him. Maedhros continued, "The free air, which can ever miss this?"

Thranduil looked back at the horizon. The sun was going down, and the colours of red, blue, orange and pink now decorated the skies.

"Look!"

Thranduil followed Maedhros' pointed finger. Below him, he saw whales surfacing. The plane lowered, churning the waters below it.

"Trudy knows just what I like." Maedhros said, kneeling as he looked down. Thranduil looked at Maedhros with a different light. Not as a Kinslayer who had ballads of horror and atrocities written in his name, but like an Elf who had his own flaws and joys.

When the Sun began to set and the Evening Star shone down, Thranduil did not have the heart to tell Maedhros to come down with him.

Two days passed, since Trudy decided to take another route.

"The Enemy has been on our tail for some time." Trudy had explained.

The last night they had spent before reaching Russia, Thranduil could not sleep. That night, Thranduil rubbed his hand over his face. He had tried really hard to sleep, but no amount of tossing and turning and lying still worked. Finally he got up, pulling his fair hair back in a band. Pulling back the tinted glass door, he found that Maedhros was not in his usual spot on the sofas. In fact, his blankets were neatly folded with pillows placed on top of it.

The plane was silent, he noticed. With most of the Elves and Men fast asleep in their bunks, the lights in the plane were dimmed. He made his way to the practicing room, a small square room with mats placed in the middle and weaponry placed in secure slots around the walls. As he expected, Maedhros was there alone. His hair was tightly secure, barefoot and only wearing trousers. Muscles bunched as he wielded his sword slowly, accurately.

Thranduil watched Maedhros. Each swipe of his blade was precise, disciplined.

"Can't sleep?" Maedhros asked, changing positions. He had not bothered to look who it was.

"I should be asking you that." Thranduil answered, sitting on the ground. He cracked the seal of his bottle. Maedhros smiled and abandoned his practice.

"I told you that the Valar made sure that we kept our memories." Maedhros said.

"What was it this time?"

"My father," Maedhros said. Thranduil nodded, not really understanding what he meant. He had spoken the two words as if Thranduil would understand him. He turned his attention to Maedhros' weapon. It was a great sword, with tempered steel for a blade, the blue and white patterns licking the length of it. The hilt was made of smooth brown leather and the metallic parts of it were decorated with small designs. Maedhros looked down at the sword and offered it to him. Thranduil placed his bottle of door beside him and got up. He took the sword, finding it much lighter than he expected. "You have regained your strength." Maedhros said.

"It would seem so." He said. He held the blade up, the point facing the ceiling.

"Good." Maedhros said. Then he gestured at the mats. "Assume position and start the drills."

"I didn't get up for practice." Thranduil said dryly, but he appreciated it.

"If you can't sleep then you might as well try work." Maedhros said. "Stay light on your feet."

"So about your father…"

"I knew you would be interested." Maedhros said. "My father was just that; a father." Thranduil looked at him and Maedhros gestured at him. "Get back to your positions." Maedhros said. "He wasn't always like that; cold, cruel, reckless, eager to sacrifice anyone's life, even that of his kin," Out of the corner of Thranduil's eye, he saw that the Elf's face had darkened slightly. "Father was very different before he became obsessed by the Silmarils."

Thranduil stayed silent.

"You find it hard to believe."

"Well, I won't be lying."

"Father was proud, a bit arrogant, and it was his flaw. He did not extend a hand of friendship even if he wanted to because of his arrogance. But his name suited him. He was like this fire that burned brightly, and he himself burned it and singed everyone close by. But he loved us all, and cherished each of our gifts, even if it was Curufin who had his skill." Maedhros shook his head. "It is difficult to explain."

"So what did you see?"

"My father," Maedhros said, "Standing watch as the ships burned, dooming our friends and family to the Grinding Ice."

oOo

_Jet,_

_The Skies,_

"Maglor's ship has been destroyed." Maedhros said.

"What?"

"It is on the news." Maedhros said, gesturing at his tablet. "Anuben! Get Lord Maglor on the line!"

"Yes, sir!"

The next hour was tense as they waited. Maedhros was tight-lipped, pale-faced throughout it all but Thranduil was impressed by his ability to stay calm and expressionless throughout it. He carried himself like a true king, though no one called him king.

Maglor finally appeared on screen, alive and well, a smug smile on his face.

"You are alright." Maedhros said, sounding a tiny bit relieved.

Maglor nodded.

"What happened?"

"They tried to kill me." The Elf said, sounding humoured.

"And why did they try to kill you?" Maedhros asked.

"I might have gotten a little nose to nose with one of the generals."

"Please tell me you did not mention CIA torture methods."

"I might have."

"What part of 'try to make friends' did you not understand?" Maedhros asked.

"They were the ones who brought it up." Maglor said. "But I can tell you most of the government of America is mostly aligned with the Enemy."

"Even the President?"

"I do not know about him." Maglor said. "But the officials in all powerful positions in the American Army are definitely with the Enemy."

"They can overthrow the government, declare martial law." Maedhros said thoughtfully.

"America never had a martial law."

"Well, it is a first time for everything."

"I can safely say for now, do not expect any allegiance from them." Maglor said. "But who knows what the future can bring?"

"Good work, regardless. Get back Tol Antanë." Maedhros said. "I expect we will have more ships coming from Aman."

They landed at Mirny that day.

"Ready to bring some Dwarves to the Forest?" Maedhros asked, as they got ready to leave.

"Are you?" Thranduil retorted, throwing him his scarf.

oOo

_Mirny Underground,_

_Russia,_

The weather was cold, wet… and cold, Thranduil thought sourly.

"Why is it so bloody cold?" Thranduil muttered.

"It's Russia." Maedhros said. "And we are underground. It is warmer than it is on the surface."

"The cold has seeped into my very bones."

"Stay your ground!"

"Evening, Norí," Thranduil said. The Dwarf removed his mask. The young Dwarf gave a wide grin.

"My father said I will see you all again." Norí said, lowering the gun.

"How is he?"

"Older," Narí said, a shadow coming across his face. "But we are ready to make the shift. Your call more than a month ago has prepared us. Our equipment is ready and so are the Dwarf workers to help you."

Narí treated him more hospitably than he had the first time he came around.

"So what has happened in the past year?"

"Well we have more visitors after you lot came."

"The friendly kind or the hostile kind?"

"Both, but you will only see the friendly ones walking about here."

"And these are?"

"They are the leaders of the footholds here in Russia. I will take you to meet them."

When they reached the city, Narí did just that. The two people, a Man and a Woman stood a few feet away from them. And he recognized them from the pictures Miranda had shown him.

Katarina was short, but with a lean figure. She possessed a young, timeless beauty. She possessed a narrow face, with unblemished youthful skin and prominent cheekbones. And an easy smile, Thranduil noticed. In the picture, her reddish curls were long, but she had now cut her hair short above the shoulders. She extended her hand for him to take. He took it.

"My name is Thranduil Oropherion."

"I know." She said. Her Russian accent was mostly gone, with only a lilt of it left behind.

"My name is Katarina."

"Katarina….?"

"Just Katarina," she said. "I know you are judging me by my age, but I can surprise you if you ever watch me work."

Thranduil did not reply but instead inclined his head. He turned his attention to the Man beside her.

Demetri held a startling resemblance with Bard. He had the same serious looks, with black hair and neat beard. But the way he moved was something much more different. The way he looked around his surroundings, the way he walked or followed people with his eyes, told Thranduil that he was something more than just a simple leader. His manner reminded Thranduil of experienced military officials he had met through his time as a detective; ones that possessed a cover story, and were something else deep within.

"So how are things going on in Russia?"

"As well as can be expected under the circumstances." Katarina said. "The government is stable and like most countries, neutral in the recent events."

"We have approached the Russian mafia, just in case." Demetri said. "That is the only way to gain support here."

"The Russian mafia?" Maedhros asked in disbelief. "To contact them is suicide."

"We need men on our side. We need our country to keep standing against the Enemy."

"I do not like it." Maedhros said, frowning. "The Russian mafia are exactly that. Sellswords. They will fight for the highest bidder."

"They also don't like their turfs being invaded. They will do anything to keep their power and if that means they need to win the war, they will do it."

"Let us not forget the Enemy will promise them greater lands than they already have. Greed can be a very powerful thing."

"Persuasion is even a greater tool." Demetri said.

"You think you can handle them."

"I have spent years of contact with them. I know enough to speak their language." Demetri said.

"They are dangerous people." Maedhros warned. "They will kill anyone in their path. They have people to do that dirty job for them and make sure it doesn't get traced back to them."

"I know." Demetri's tone was dry. "I worked for them in those kinds of dirty jobs."

Thranduil raised a brow.

"What happened?"

"I met a girl." Demetri said. "That is how all the stories end, yes?" Then he sobered. "And I also realized I do not like being used." Thranduil nodded. "The Russian mafia do have honour, but not the kind like ours. They will not forsake a blood oath once it is sworn."

"And who will they swear this oath to?"

Demetri smiled.

"How can we trust you to have such power in your control?" Maedhros asked.

"You can't." Demetri said. Maedhros glanced at Thranduil and a mutual understanding passed between them. Thranduil gave him an imperceptive nod. He trusted Demetri. The Man, it seemed, possessed a dry humour.

"Have you heard from base?" Katarina asked.

"Grey Havens has been destroyed."

"I know." Katarina said. "But we haven't heard from Jason and Miranda in two days. We are beginning to get worried. They check in on every foothold daily."

"There may be a reason." Thranduil said. "They know how to handle themselves."

They chatted more but it was brief because Narí came to pick them up and take them to refresh themselves. Mithon, as always, was faithfully followed him.

Norí met them immediately after dinner. The old Dwarf king had aged greatly in that one year. His face had new wrinkles and he walked slowly, but his mind was as sharp as ever.

"We will need a way to transfer our larger equipment across the Sea." Norí said. It was the last part of their meeting.

"My ships are at the docks and I have ways of transferring it to the docks." Maedhros said. Narí raised a brow.

"You have planned everything."

"Indeed I have."

"Well then, things are in place." Norí said.

"No," Maedhros said. "The chessboard has been set. The pieces are moving. And we have to move quickly when we still can."

oOo

_La Rochelle,_

_France,_

"_I am just picking up some groceries, Alarco," _Círdan said dryly. _"I am going to be fine."_

"_There are threats everywhere, my liege." _Alarco said. The Elf was a slim one, dressed like a bodyguard would. _"I am not letting you out of my sight." _

Círdan rolled his eyes at him and placed the grocery bags in the back of the car.

"_I think I can stay alive without any problems."_

Alarco did not say anything but his silence spoke volumes of how much he didn't believe in Círdan.

Círdan didn't notice the motorbike coming their way but Alarco did. The next thing Círdan knew was slamming into the side of their car with Alarco above him, protecting his body. He felt Alarco shudder as bullets lodged into his body.

"_Alarco!"_ Círdan scrambled for the door handle, the other arm keeping Alarco upright. _"Stay with me!"_

He heard the bikers shout something at them in French. "We will find you again!"

Círdan opened the door and supported his companion, pulling him and resting Alarco's head on his lap. He shrugged off his coat and placed it on the wounds.

"Drive up back to the mansion!" He ordered the driver. "Go fast!"

"No exit wounds," Círdan said. "The bullets are inside, two in the back. Stay with me, Alarco!"

Alarco gave a strangled intake of breath.

"You were saying, sir?"

Círdan gritted his teeth and decided just to make sure that he stayed alive.

oOo

_Istanbul,_

_Turkey,_

Életh had been sitting in the corner of the building for hours on end. She had been looking at the building across the street, where two men were working through the window with withdrawn curtains. Those Men were definitely ones that worked for the Enemy. What they were doing, however, was something they interested her. They were working on a laptop, as far as she could see.

She needed to see it, she reasoned. It might be something that they would need.

As far as she could see, there were only two people in there working on a laptop that seemed important.

She got up from her perch and made her way to the house. The door was open. She closed the door quietly behind him. The two Men were speaking in Turkish, which she didn't understand. One, she could hear was talking on his cell phone. She supposed he was talking to their dealer. She stepped over a balding Man unconscious on the floor. She supposed he was the owner of the house. The Man hung up. She supposed the dealer wouldn't be calling back anytime soon.

She picked up a vase in the corridor and dropped it, letting it shatter on the floor. She heard chatter and a scuffle as alarm was raised. One of the Men stepped into the corridor as she picked up the vase shard. It was long, sharp in all edge, with a surprising balance of weight. The Man raised his gun and shot at her. She dodged the bullet and threw the shard at him. The Man was momentarily distracted and it was all she needed. She reached him in no time and grabbed his wrist holding the gun and the gun went off. She punched him in the gut and the Man grabbed her head and threw slammed it in the wall. She cried in pain and her leg went up, kicking him between the legs. The Man cried in pain and he let go of his gun. She slammed his head into the wall. He collapsed to the ground. She grabbed his gun and butted his head, making him fall unconscious.

The other Man was in the living room, working furiously on the laptop. He was no soldier nor did he have any combat training, Életh reasoned, judging from his physique.

Életh grabbed the Man and swung him around, pushing him back into the wall. The Man grunted at the impact, recovered quickly and swung his fist at her. She ducked the blow and delivered blows into his gut. The Man groaned, stumbling to the ground. Lifting the scarf from her shoulders, she quickly wounded it around the Man's neck and tightened it. The Man's arms flailed wildly, but from his prostrate form and his hands unable to grab her clothes, he was defenceless. She kept the grip until the Man went limp. She still did not relent, knowing it could be fake. It was, in fact, fake. The Man flailed again and she kept it until he fell unconscious.

Életh's lips curled upwards. It was a cold smile.

"Well, let us see what we have here." She said to no one in particular, going to the laptop.

oOo

_Redwood Forest,_

_United Kingdom,_

"We have a problem." Noron said.

"What kind of a problem?" Oropher said.

"The Prime Minister getting on our nerves kind," Hanon said. "We have two scouts on our tail with a couple of spies coming from the west of the forest."

"Ah, I see." Oropher said. "Well, it isn't the first time we had intruders. I think you guys know what to do?"

Hanon smiled.

"It will be fun." He said. "Noron needs a bit of practice anyway."

Two hours later, the military scouts had all but fled from the forest, insisting hallucinations of riders and Rangers.

oOo

_Undisclosed location,_

_Arda,_

She raised her head from the rough pallet, watching the door open and a light streaming into it. Two Ellyn walked inside, Himben and Eöl.

"What do you want this time?" Arodis asked.

"You can pull your weight around here."

"And how?"

"We need someone to crack the codes of the Noldorin living in Tol Antanë." Eöl caught the look on her face. "Yes, we know about the island. The security codes around their software are too advanced for us to break through it. You, however, can work for us."

"I will never work for you."

"I thought you might say that." Eöl said. The Elf turned swiftly and stabbed Himben with a cylindrical object. Himben looked at him in shock. Eöl pulled out another device and pressed a button on it.

"What have you done?" Arodis asked, her breath hitching. Himben collapsed on his back.

"There are two syringes in that cylinder." Eöl said. "One of it is poison, a lethal kind that causes the blood vessels to constrict and push the heart into an attack. He has exactly two minutes. He will die, unless you comply."

"You don't think I mind watching him die?" Arodis asked, watching her father's limp form.

"No, I think you do mind." Eöl said. "You wouldn't let your father die. After all he is the grandfather to your children. Two daughters, isn't that right?" Arodis shot him a look of pure hatred. "Now, what will you tell your girls? That you let their grandpapa die? That it was your fault?"

Himben's fingers clawed uselessly against the smooth solid floor. His skin was now sickeningly pale. Small veins surfaced on it like spider webs.

"Fine, I will help." She said. "Now let him go!"

Eöl tilted his head.

"I said I will help now let him go!" Arodis shrieked. Eöl pressed the button on his device and instantly Himben's condition improved. The veins disappeared and his skin looked healthier. Himben took in a deep breath and when his eyes fluttered open, he looked directly at Arodis. Arodis looked away.

"Good," Eöl said. "I knew you wouldn't be called a Kinslayer." The Elf rose to his feet.

"I wouldn't take that title from you." Arodis hissed, "After you killed your own wife, when you tried to take your son's."

Eöl sneered at her and then clamped something around her wrist.

"Just in case you get any ideas when you near a computer." He said, pulling away. Arodis' lower lip trembled. But she had to stay strong. Eöl exploited any weakness. And she wasn't about to go down without a fight.

oOo

_Redwood Forest,_

_United Kingdom,_

"Land it near the forest." Maedhros said.

"Will do."

"Closer," Maedhros said. Trudy made an irritated sound.

"If you want the controls, then take it, but if you don't then let me work in peace, Fire-head."

Maedhros shook his head, smiling before straightening.

"I like it when I get on her nerves." Maedhros told Thranduil in a low tone.

"I heard that." Trudy said.

When they got off the raft of the plane, the forest was silent, except for the regular sounds coming from it. They barely stepped into the forest when a voice stopped them.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

Thranduil scowled and looked up.

"Get down from there, you blithering, blind idiot!" Thranduil called up. "Evidently you should not be a Ranger if you cannot see past your own bow!"

Laughter sounded through the branches. Hanon and Noron dropped down. Legolas and Fion followed more slowly.

He met Arodien deeper into the forest, where they had placed large canopies with multiple tables with plans littered everywhere.

"We have yet to make a city plan for all of this."

"Amrod sent his own designs for the city, if, that is, you want it."

"So where is it?"

Maedhros produced a small, flat, circular disc that looked like a device. He placed it on the flat of his palm and switched it on.

"A hologram," Thranduil said. The entire plan appeared, the images shifting. Maedhros gave a small smile and brought the hologram on to the main table.

Amrod, it seemed, had thought of everything. The entire city was built in stone, deep into the mountain. It was built with storehouses to survive months of siege. Close to the entrances, which were five in total, there were guardhouses, and barracks. Then came the Great Markets, and then at deep inside were Halls for living. It was fully functional. It could hold parties, hold Thranduil's entire army without any problem.

"Can the city survive in a dragon attack?"

"We decided the Silvan Elves can place enchantments to protect it from most of the damage if the dragons came to attack."

"I do not think my own city planners could do it on their own. They have no knowledge of modern technology."

"That is where my own city planners will come in." Maedhros said. "The Noldorin will help you in this. And then there is something else. It was Amras' idea."

"What is?"

"To not use technology for lighting," Maedhros said. "Use Fëanorian lamps instead." Thranduil raised a brow. It was a rich gift, especially coming from a Noldo. "If there ever comes a time that you lose electricity in the event that the city is under some attack or siege, then you will at least have lighting throughout the city."

"I would be honoured." Thranduil said. Maedhros nodded.

"The city needs a name." Arodien said.

Fion gave a small smile.

"If it were up to me, I would name it out of nostalgia." Fion said. "Call it Thranduil's Halls."

"That is the perfect name." Legolas said.

"Are you sure?" Thranduil said.

"Yes." Fion said. "Your Halls were deep in the mountain and away from the starlight, yes, but it was home." Fion smiled. "It was home." He repeated.

"Thranduil's Halls, it is."

"It will take a while to build it." Maedhros said. "But we will have it build in a matter of a year."

"There is no way to build this in a year," Norí protested. "Stone needs to be felt, to be chipped away carefully or the ceiling will collapse."

"Well, we just have to build it carefully and quickly." Maedhros said reasonably. Norí stared at him and shook his head.

"You are what they say you are. You are insane." Norí said. "And I like it." Maedhros smiled.

"I try." Maedhros said evenly. "The rest of the equipment will be here by ship."

"Blake will try to stop it." Thranduil said.

"And I know just how to handle him."

"Really? How?"

"Well, some of the Hunters found some… stuff on his son that might ruin his political standing if it ever got out."

"Dirty tricks," Thranduil said dryly.

"Politics is politics." Maedhros said.

"And at the moment, I appreciate it."

Maedhros smirked. Then he looked past Thranduil's shoulder.

"There are some people who want to see you." Thranduil turned to look and found Hanon and his fellow Rangers standing nearby, waiting to be acknowledged.

"If you here to ask my about scaring off any more of those military officials, you do not need to ask." Thranduil said dryly. Laughter rippled through the Ellyn.

"We are here to actually ask for permission." Hanon said. Thranduil looked at him and then at the rest of the Rangers.

"What is it?"

"We made the Ranger's Circle long ago in Eryn Galen," Hanon said. "We would like your permission to make it here once again."

The Ranger's Circle was a clearing of trees, with the houses built on the talans high up in the trees surrounding the clearing. All the trees were interconnected with bridges and the stables and healing houses for the critically injured were placed on the forest floor. It was built specifically for the Rangers on duty, complete with supplies and weaponry.

"I think we will be staying here for a while." Thranduil said, folding his arms and giving them a small smile. "I do not see why not." Hanon smiled.

"You wouldn't regret it."

"I know I won't."

"You know with all the names we are reusing, this will make the saying 'History repeats itself' come all true."

After a brief chatter, they parted. Still smiling, he made his way away from them. Arodien stood a few feet away, dressing in a knee-length light lavender dress and thigh-length boots.

"You are smiling." Arodien said, greeting him.

"Aren't I allowed to smile?" Thranduil asked, placing his arms around her. She shrieked as he lifted her up. The city planner Arodien was talking to just grinned and made himself scarce, leaving the King and Queen in their playful banter.

"Put me down!"

"I like you up here."

"Put me down, please!"

"Well, since you asked nicely," Thranduil lifted her higher before letting go, this time catching her with his arms behind her back and legs, carrying her bridal style.

"You said you will put me down."

"I just said you asked nicely." Thranduil corrected. "So someone has been busy here."

"Well it takes two to form company." She said, securing her hands around his neck.

"How is Legolas?"

"Reasonably calm," Arodien said. "Wherever Életh is, she isn't with in the Enemy's hands. That consoles Legolas somewhat. But we have yet to hear from her."

"And Dorián?"

"You know, you are holding me so romantically but you are only talking about work."

"What else does a Queen do for her King?"

"Humph, true, but here we are just husband and wife… or wife and husband," she corrected herself.

"Alright then," he said, placing her carefully on her feet. She frowned in her displeasure at him.

"Way to kill the mood," she muttered at him. He gave her an apologetic look.

"How is Dorián?" He asked.

"We haven't heard from him. We went radio silent for the past week. He said he will join us here with some Intel. He is worried about Arodis."

"Reasonably so," Thranduil said. "But Arodis is a strong Elleth. She can handle herself in tight spots, I am sure."

"I know, but you can't stop worrying for someone you love."

Thranduil got the feeling that the words were directed at him as well, judging by the sad tint in Arodien's smile.

"Some spouses know just how to pull through." He said.

_A new born in Varda's arms…_

"Are you alright?" Arodien asked, drawing his attention back to reality. Thranduil looked down at her, her hair swept back from her shoulders, a single silver chain holding a heavy wooden pendent the only jewellery that she wore instead of her marriage ring. Thranduil smiled at her.

"I am fine." Thranduil said. He pushed back the strand of her stray hair.

"So how do you want to work this one out?" Arodien said. "I do not think you are the type to sit quietly and play house."

"I think I will let you take point of this one." Thranduil said. Arodien raised her brow in surprise.

"You trust me to lead the construction?"

"I trust you." He brushed his fingers against her chin. "Always."

"And besides they like you more than they do me," Thranduil said.

"I am prettier than you." Arodien said. Thranduil laughed.

"That you are." He agreed.

oOo

_Redwood Forest,_

_United Kingdom,_

"There are some people here to meet you."

"Are there?" Thranduil asked his wife.

"Sire!"

Suddenly Thranduil was surrounded by familiar faces of Warriors, Rangers, and other Ellyn he had met over the years as king. He met Olben, Arandur, Galion, and many others.

"You are here." Thranduil said. "I wasn't expecting so many, I admit."

"We are here to build a city, Sire." One of them said humorously. "You are going to need some people to live it in."

"And obviously you would need us." Olben said teasingly.

"You give yourself too much standing, Olben." Thranduil retorted. "Lower it a bit."

After some laughter and jokes, they broke the gathering. Tents were being erected, supplied by the Noldorin. These were waterproof, capable of keeping their interior dry.

"It will not be easy living while we start drilling." Maedhros said.

"I do not mind." Arodien said. She had changed to a thigh-length, loose light blue blouse and fitted jeans with long boots. "I have lived my share of the Wild." She said. Catching Maedhros' look, she added, "Thranduil was restless sometimes when we visited Valmar. We used to take the morning and explore the outskirts of the city. He liked to travel light."

"I think you will be just fine." Maedhros said. "Thranduil Oropherion chose his wife wisely."

Thranduil chuckled. He went over the plans again and once again he found the plans completely flawless.

"Bless Amrod for planning all this." Thranduil whispered.

Unfortunately, Maedhros heard the remark and raised his brows.

"You? A Sinda? Blessing a Fëanorian? This is a notable day indeed!"

"Isn't it?" Thranduil said dryly. "Don't rub it in."

"Please, give me some credit."

"Anyone got eyes on Smaug?"

"You are changing the subject."

"I am."

"Well, the news has spotted the dragon that attacked London in Scotland. The military tried taking him out but ended up getting one battalion destroyed. So they just left him be at the mountains and let him steal sheep and goats to his content. And also if he catches some men."

"We will have to deal with him someday."

"Someday, but not today. And my brothers say that lesser dragons have started to appear throughout the globe. Those the military can handle. Lesser fire-drakes were always so easy to kill."

"It doesn't matter if we kill them off right now anyway," Thranduil said grimly. "They will just keep coming back."

"I know. So we just have to focus on getting this stronghold up and running." Maedhros said, turning to look behind him at the side of the mountain they thought to make an entrance of. "That is what counts for Dagor Dagorath."

"Why are helping me?"

Maedhros turned to look at Thranduil.

"You are doing everything in your power to make sure I have everything I could possibly need. Why? What do you gain from all of this?"

Maedhros pursed his lips, though he noticed a ghost of a smile around his lips.

"Think of it this way," Maedhros said. "I need you as much as you need me. I would like to have as many allies as I could alive and well to Dagor Dagorath." Thranduil smiled.

The birds had fallen silent, as if anticipating something, but the sunlight was bright and merry in light green leaves. The trees had reddish brown bark and the forest floor was rich with soil and plants. Then they heard the sound of an explosion and stone debris fell on the ground.

"Our work is already beginning."

oOo

_Linville Gorge Wilderness,_

_Pisgah National Forest,_

_North Caroline, _

The tree that Yavannah stopped in front of had a large girth. The bark was dark brown with mossy outgrowth and the branches were thick with vines and leaves.

She pressed her hand on the tree.

"_Awaken,"_ Yavannah said.

The tree stood where it was and then it shook. The tree lengthened, the roots breaking free as the tree moved. Then the two arms came into view, with the face having a busy, mossy beard and the head full of leaves. Two great eyes of deep green pupils and dark brown colour in place of whites.

"The air has changed and so has earth!" Treebeard said, his voice deep, rumbling.

"And it has changed more than you would know." Yavannah said. She told him everything.

"Hoo hum!" Treebeard said, his long legs forming great depressions into the earth. "We have so much to do and so little time! And here you want us to make a hasty decision…. Majesty." He prolonged the last word, as if the word was unfamiliar. Treebeard looked around.

"The trees have gone wild in our presence." Treebeard said.

"And many of them are long gone," Yavannah said in sorrow. "The Race of Men treated my gift with ill ease."

"We Ents cannot hold the entire line." Treebeard said. He spread his hand out for Yavannah at ground level. Yavannah lifted her skirts lightly and stepped onto the spread palm. She looked up as Treebeard raised her gently and looked at her. "We will be outnumbered… destroyed."

"And that is why we will have your Entwives."

Treebeard hummed in surprise.

"Entwives! Where were our Entwives?"

"Safe," Yavannah said. "I am sorry. We took them across the Sea. It was the only way to protect your kind."

"Then, Majesty," Treebeard said, drawing himself to full height. "We will build our forests anew."

"I hoped so."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

I hadn't been feeling well. :P One of you has had to have hoped for a quick update because I had to stay in late. And I thought I might as well put up another chapter.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note:**

**Chapter 16**

_Redwood Forest,_

_United Kingdom,_

There was so much to do that Thranduil was starting to realize what Norí meant when he said that it could simply not be done in a year.

The hospital being built inside the mountain needed to be fully functional with even the most expensive of equipment. And Thranduil was starting to be really thankful for the amount of wealth he possessed. It amounted to be greater than trillions of dollars, and he had pools of money coming from Thorontur and the others as well.

"No reason hoarding it if Dagor Dagorath is approaching," Thorontur reasoned. "We will have to outfit all of our soldiers when the time comes anyway."

And there were series of warehouses, far below the surface of the earth that needed to be filled up. Also, Amrod had still placed some finesse to the entire design, so that it looked pleasing to the eye than plainly practical. And Thranduil took some consoling from the fact.

It was two days later when Maedhros came to his tent where he was reviewing a part of the city blueprints with his father.

"You need to come and see this." Maedhros said. "My Men have found something."

"What is it?"

"It is better if you take a look on your own."

Maedhros' tone was grave, and that didn't mean anything good. Exchanging glances, both Thranduil and Oropher left the tent and followed him back to the plane. Maedhros led him to the main briefing room. He was surprised to see both Legolas and Arodien already there, pale-faced and tight-lipped. Maedhros gestured at the large screen mounted on the wall.

"Look."

A young woman… no, not a woman; it was an Elleth.

"Életh," Thranduil whispered, stepping closer to the screen.

Életh was dressed in some light, but cheap clothes that were too baggy on her. Her hair was cropped near her shoulders and it was no professional work. Her hair was now dyed dark and she was wearing contact lenses to hide her true eye colour. But it was definitely her.

"How are we seeing this?" Thranduil asked. Életh was obviously chewing gum, with earphones in both her ears and her hands flew on what looked like a keyboard.

"She is on a laptop and we are looking through the camera of it."

"And can we track it?"

"We have already done so." Maedhros said, folding his arms. "She is in Istanbul, Turkey."

"And we do not have any audio?"

Maedhros shook his head.

"Whatever it is, I think she is alone and she wants us to know something."

Életh suddenly frowned and then her eyes widened as if in disbelief. She got up and shifted around the table before coming back in view with a paper and pen. She started to write at a fast pace, but judging from her trembling hand, Thranduil knew it was not something he would be happy to hear.

"Can we send her our feed?"

"No, she has blocked it."

"She is trying to hide who she is speaking to." Legolas said quietly, speaking for the first time after seeing his wife.

Életh was still scribbling furiously. Then she held up the paper, in which she had written in capital letters,

"THE ENEMY IS TRYING TO TAKE OVER NUCLEAR ASSETS."

"Good grief," Maedhros whispered. "That would give them tremendous advantage."

"Especially if they already have dragons on their side," Oropher said. "If what I know about these nuclear assets is true, then Morgoth's army can multiply tenfold without any problems."

"We have to work on getting them back." Thranduil said.

"No," Maedhros said firmly. "We have to work on getting your stronghold up and running. Without it we will be crippled here. Then we can work on getting these assets back."

Suddenly Életh's face swung around, looking behind her. She pulled off one earphone as if to listen intently. Thranduil could feel he and Legolas both were holding their breaths. Then she immediately turned back to the laptop, one hand disappearing from the screen before reappearing. The other hand removed the USB drive from the laptop and then she pointed the gun directly at the screen.

"No!"

The screen went blank. The silence in the room was stifling and finally it was Arodien who gave a strangled cry after Legolas' outburst.

"She is going to be fine." Thranduil said, pulling his wife to his chest. "She survived this long."

"Permission to go after her," Legolas said. He had not been his merry self since his wife's capture. Thranduil could not blame him.

"Denied," Thranduil said. "I will not have a part of my house running about in the Wild where I can offer them no aid. Életh will find her way back to us."

"I have already sent Hunters after her." Maedhros said. "They are ones that I trust the most. They will find her and bring her back safely."

Legolas was motionless for a moment but passively nodded. Arodien and Thranduil shared a look of concern. Legolas and his wife had a bit of a rocky relationship in the beginning of their marriage, since Legolas had been a disciplined bachelor by the time he wed, but after that they were close to each other as they possibly could. Legolas loved his wife dearly. Anyone with eyes could see it.

With his free hand, Thranduil reached out and gripped his son's shoulder tightly.

"She is going to be just fine." He repeated. This time, Legolas smiled briefly.

"I hope so."

oOo

_The Seas,_

_Arda,_

Maglor was flipping a coin over his knuckles.

"I never knew you to be the type to give up so easily." Celegorm said on the screen where he was sharing a call with Maglor.

"I am not giving up." Maglor said wearily. He flipped the coin, caught it and placed it on the table. Then he gave his attention to his brother on the screen. "I do not know where to start with this problem."

"Maglor, how many officials are there in America that has the seats of power?"

"Including the CIA, and the FBI, and the Homeland Security with all the politicians and the Army officials, I would place the number in some hundred thousand?"

"Just a few thousand," Celegorm corrected. "And how much is the population of America in total?"

"Three hundred and sixteen million give or take," Maglor said. "Why?"

"Well, you could hardly expect all of them to be on the side of the Enemy."

Maglor sighed and rubbed his face.

"It isn't about what the majority of the population thinks," Maglor said. "We need to have connections with the places of power. The people don't matter to us if all the powerful candidates simply side with the Enemy."

"I have sent you some vids. Pull them up."

Maglor pulled out the email attachments on his laptop. Throughout the vids, he saw American people, leading protests and marches against their government on various things; peace, rights for blacks and so on.

"What are you showing me, Celegorm?"

"Look," Celegorm leaned forward on his chair, his elbows on his desk. "There are people out there who have good hearts. And they are willing to work for it. Maglor, there is hope in that country."

Maglor rubbed his temple.

"No matter how good they are deep inside, their government doesn't change. They will only function if we try to remove what's holding them back. So," he murmured, rewinding the vids, "How do we try to break their hold?"

Maglor was silent for so long that Celegorm began to wonder.

"Cyber-war," Maglor said finally.

"What?"

"I am going to make all those politicians dance on their toes." Maglor said.

"I don't think Maedhros would like you to start a war on the internet."

"Maedhros is not king yet." Maglor retorted.

"Don't you think this is wrong? If the American government ever catches you, you will be hunted down. And I don't think we can afford a war on double fronts right now."

"Oh it can't be as bad as turning everyone including the Noldorin themselves on us."

"I think you have a death wish." Celegorm muttered.

"We are Fëanoriannath, Celegorm. We always have a death wish."

oOo

_Redwood Forest,_

_United Kingdom,_

"Don't trust him with the woodwork." Fion called over his shoulder.

"Don't trust him with the privy," Thranduil called back. Laughter sounded among the Ellyn working. Maedhros' dark red hair was prominent through the sea of Ellyn working relentlessly. The Elf neared him.

"Celeborn just struck a deal with the Prime Minister of Japan."

Thranduil looked up in surprise. He returned the tools in his hands back to the Ellon he borrowed it from and walked with Maedhros.

They watched the recorded video Maedhros had pulled up. The treaty they had struck allowed the Silvan Elves from Lórien to settle in Japan, take jobs and form their settlements under the leadership of Lord Celeborn. By the end of it, there was a crowd with Thranduil and Maedhros.

"That is so clever." Thranduil observed. Maedhros hummed in reply.

Fion nudged Thorontur. Thorontur grumbled a bit but fished out some money and handed it in Fion's open palm.

"You two betted on it?"

"Rangers win this round." Fion sounded smug.

"Well, don't sound too happy." Thorontur told him.

"We have Japan as an ally." Thranduil said.

"Meanwhile," Thorontur said. "We have another problem. Ukraine is a wasteland, with the civilians working there now prisoners, the Enemy has spread to the surrounding countries. Some of them simply swore alliance with them instead of causing destruction in their own countries."

"I get what it is," Thranduil said. "The boundaries are dissolving."

"This war doesn't have complete countries on one side or the other-" Fion began.

"This means that people will pull apart," Hanon said, "brother against brother, friend against friend."

Some days later, when he had been dosing on a cot, Legolas had woken him and nearly dragged him all the way to a laptop.

"This had better be good." Thranduil grumbled. His days mostly alternated between the building city, harnessing his powers and training with Maedhros. He was not in a good mood.

"Behave, grump," Arodien chided, squeezing her husband's shoulders. "You have to see this."

The video they were seeing was live streaming of an American news channel. The news anchor was speaking…. About cats and cat owners. Thranduil gave a low growl and then Thranduil's new retort died on his lips.

The video flickered, bringing a new video overlapping it. He saw himself with his wife, standing together.

"We need to stand up." The voiceover said. Then the news shifted back to the anchor.

"We seem to have some technical problems," the news anchor started to say.

Thranduil's lips and chest tightened in increasing fury as he watched the snapshots of himself, Celeborn, their people, the seven sons of Fëanor etc. coming on the screen with voiceovers. The vids were a few seconds in length or even a minute or so.

"Who is doing this?"

"Maglor," Fion said. "I just found out."

"Who is seeing this?"

"America, mainly, and parts of UK."

"Get him on line."

Some minutes later, he confronted Maglor.

"Before you shout, I have a perfectly good reason to do so." Maglor said.

"I don't like you using me for your cause." Thranduil said.

"I am not trying to." Maglor retorted. "You need allies. My brother needs allies. And so does Celeborn. We need to turn as many a people as we could for our cause."

"That gives you no right!"

"Thranduil," Arodien said, pressing her hand on his back. "Let it go."

He turned his attention back to Maglor.

"Fine," Thranduil said. "But I hope it comes back to haunt you. And you will keep the Ellyth of my family out of these videos."

"Thranduil, you do not need to protect us," Arodien said. But Maglor interrupted.

"Don't worry, I won't," Maglor sounded weary. "I am going to be stuck with this for the next few years. I will be seeing that in my dreams even."

"And I take immense comfort for the fact." Thranduil replied.

"You will never win an argument with him when it comes to sarcasm, Maglor," Maedhros said finally. The Elf had stayed wisely quiet throughout the exchange.

oOo

_Istanbul,_

_Turkey,_

The hard drive from the laptop she was looking through was safely tucked in the large pocket of her coat. She dug her hand into the pocket, feeling the device dig into her palm. She was being followed, and now her heart jumped up in her throat. She walked faster, feeling the stranger match her strides. She broke into a run and turned on a street corner.

It was a dead end.

She turned around, pulling her pistol at the stranger. The Man skidded to a halt. He wore a low cap with dark sunglasses hiding his eyes. He raised his hands slowly.

"Who are you?" She demanded. "What do you want?"

Very slowly, the Man reached up to his cap and pulled it off. Black hair spilled over his shoulders. Tipped ears were prominent to him. Then the Elf pulled off his sunglasses. He looked young but the maturity in his eyes told her he was an elder.

_"Aman sleeps."_

She blinked at the statement. It was passing words. Legolas had been the one who came up with it.

_"Arda wakes." _She answered.

He was a friend. Her hand trembled. The Elf's eyes softened.

"You are a long way from home, little one."

Her hand dropped to her side, her pistol loose in her grasp. The Elf brought his hand forward and she took it readily.

"Let's get you back home."

oOo

_Redwood Forest,_

_United Kingdom,_

Thranduil and Arodien stepped out, lowering the tent flap to an emotional and very intimate meeting between Legolas and his wife.

"She is fine," Arodien said, relieved. "I am so happy."

"I know. The relief is amazing." Thranduil said. "Now if we know about Arodis."

"How is Dorián holding up?"

"He is investigating the part of the nuclear assets Életh had mentioned. We do not know anything yet. Életh's hard drive did not bring anything more up. Just that the Enemy is targeting America's assets."

"They are everywhere in the States."

"And it would be a disaster."

"But is Dorián going to be fine?"

"He is strong." Thranduil said. "He will stay focused."

oOo

_Redwood Forest,_

_United Kingdom,_

"You are leaving," Thranduil noted.

Maedhros looked up from where he was zipping his duffel bag.

"I am sorry," Maedhros said. "I am afraid duty calls me back to my island." He glanced at him. "You are going to be fine."

"I am not worried about me." Thranduil said. "What are you going to do?"

"I am going to persuade Maglor to sing his Noldolantë so that we can tape it to USA."

"He is not going to like that."

"Maglor said it himself. We have to show the reality of what is coming. And that is the only way to do it. Maglor was not named Kanafinwë without a reason. His voice holds power. We need him."

"That's not the only reason, is there?"

"There are just a few things to do here and there." Maedhros said.

Thranduil only nodded once.

"So, uh, what about Haldir?"

"He is going to be fine." Maglor said.

"I have been trying to reach him but all I get are polite refusals to hear from him."

"I am sorry about that." Maedhros gave him a side along glance. "We do not allow anyone other than direct families to meet with soldiers who are going through recovery."

"Why?" Thranduil raised a brow. "Because you do it for the sake of the patient or for the sake of whatever secret Caranthir's keeping?"

Maedhros smiled and said nothing. That itself spoke volumes.

"Ingwë is in Tol Antanë."

"What happened?" Thranduil whistled.

"Caranthir is hot-headed, though he tries to control it. But a fight ensued between them right on the harbour."

"And you are going there to sort things out."

Maedhros chuckled.

"Oh, things like this tend to blow over but I still need to smoothen it around the edges."

"Good luck," Thranduil said. He remembered Ingwë. The Vanya was a bit stiff-necked, not so eager to bend to any changes.

"See you when I see you." Maedhros called over his shoulder, pulling his duffel bag over his shoulder.

"See you when I see you," Thranduil said quietly, long after Maedhros had left.

oOo

_London,_

_United Kingdom,_

"You should have taken Blake's invitation to the charity dinner." Thorontur said.

"I am not his puppet." Thranduil said. "I refuse to go so that he could use me as a toy to be displayed."

"You have," Thorontur whistled as he went through Thranduil's phone. "You have sixteen missed calls from Miranda since we were in the meeting."

"What?" Thranduil immediately reached for his phone and checked. Thorontur was right.

"I wonder what is wrong." He dialled the number and waited as the call went through.

"Hello?" Thranduil's frown deepened. Miranda's voice was uncharacteristically shaken.

"Miranda?" Thranduil got up from his seat, turning away from Thorontur. "Is everything alright?"

"Did you know?"

"Err- what?"

"Did you know?" She repeated. She had been crying, he realized. "Did you know that Jason is sick?"

"Miranda, I-" Thranduil said. "I just knew that he hadn't been feeling well for some time."

"He has stage 4 cancer." Miranda said. "He was cured of it long ago- he shouldn't have had it."

"Miranda-"

"And Jimmy knew! And he didn't tell me."

"Miranda, Jason had his reasons. He focused his time on the Fellowship. Tell me, what is going to happen now?"

"Jimmy got some equipment and they are setting up a room for Jason." There was a sniffle. Thranduil had not expected Miranda to break down like this. "He practicing in the training rooms and he just collapsed, you know. His breathing stopped and we had to work quickly to bring him back. Jimmy is with him now. Right now, they need the drugs to start chemotherapy." He heard her give a shuddering breath and a hitched sob.

"Where are you?"

"There is this villa outside Vienna, and that's where we are." She sounded calmer than she before.

"You are going to be fine."

"He wants me to take over the operations in his place while he gets better." Miranda said.

"You are going to be fine." Thranduil repeated. Her breathing had evened now. Miranda was beginning to sound normal. "Hey, you are Éomer's descendants. You know how to fight back."

"Ok." Miranda said.

"Just focus on what you have been given to do. Leave Jimmy to do the rest."

"Ok."

When he hung up, he said, "I need a plane for Vienna."

"What? Why?"

Thranduil told him everything.

"No, Thranduil."

"She needs me."

"She is a full-grown Woman," Thorontur said. "She can handle herself and so can Jason. You are not going."

"Thorontur-"

"You are king," Thorontur continued firmly. "You have become rusty. You know you cannot leave your people behind. You need to be there for your people. They need to know they can follow you and you need to appear in front of them enough to let them trust you. And you are more important now. Círdan walks about with a heavy guard and you need one as well. They are targeting dangerous pieces in the game. You are not going."

Thranduil stared at his advisor but the Elf did not look away. Finally Thranduil sighed.

"Fine. I won't go."

oOo

_Undisclosed location,_

_Arda,_

The food was bland, pale in colour and taste. She ate it hungrily and after she finished her tray, she still felt hungry. They only fed her enough to keep her alive and with some energy to work. But they did not give her enough to keep her fit and strong. They were slowly starving her out, making her weak. She had to get out of here.

There was no way to say something for later too. Either eat everything or throw it out; and it wasn't even as if she could get more lately. No, then she will have to wait until the next time she ate.

Himben she did not even bother looking in the eye. But as soon as she was able to leave her cell, she took note of her surroundings. She was in some form of underground base, she had gathered. Where, exactly, she did not know. The floor was shockingly white, the walls were shockingly white and even the lights were shockingly white. Everyone looked pale and sickly in that kind of light. She squeezed her eyes shut; it hurt her eyes too.

She felt the cool metal against her wrist and gritted her teeth in disgust. Apart from her marriage ring that she wore, the bracelet Eöl had made her wear was the only other ornament for her body.

Arodis studied the bracelet she was wearing. It was narrow which meant that she could not take off the bracelet in any way. She knew what it was. If she neared any computer without authorisation, she would scramble the computer's software. Computers would just shut down and there was no way for her to send a plea of help.

She remembered sitting with some of the Fellowship hackers, who told her a thing or two. Arodis had not really listened back then but she remembered that the wiring inside such bracelets could be fired by giving them high voltage. This bracelet, however, was smooth, with no way for her to expose the interior. There was, however, a tiny bit of a gap where the bracelet met its full round. If she were to push something of high voltage in it, she might be able to get it off.

And electrocute her in the process.

Sighing, Arodis leaned her head back against the wall. She had been working on what Eöl wanted and she had also noticed the tension between her father and the Dark Elf. Evidently Himben hadn't improved. Arodis snorted. That is what he gets for trusting this sorry lot. If he ever felt an ounce of remorse and came back, then she doubted King Thranduil would let him.

If she herself let him in the kingdom in the first place, that is.

"Get back to work, prisoner!" The voice belonged to one of the gruff, sneering, good-for-nothing Men. They learned the hard way not to mess with her. She wasn't like Életh, who could immediately assume a cold mask and ruthlessly batter her enemies. No, but Dorián made sure she knew a thing or two about self-defence. Eyes, ears, little fingers, little toes made wonderful and convenient targets. And if she managed to blind one or two, then all the better.

After all, Arodis thought grimly as she got up from her seat and dusted off the bland grey suit she wore that signified her as nothing but a prisoner, she was the wife of a spy.

oOo

_Redwood Forest,_

_United Kingdom,_

The months passed in a blur.

His days were mostly alternating between welcoming the new arrivals from Aman to his forest and his practice with Hanon and Noron. His powers had not only grown but also became steady. His visions were now disappearing. He had mentioned it to Galadriel when he finally got the time to speak to her and she assured him it was normal.

"Dagor Dagorath will be dependent on many factors." Galadriel said. "When such a great war comes, our foresight is shadowed and we cannot see too far into the future. The question is… what do you see?"

Thranduil never wanted to discuss his visions, feeling reluctant to do so. But he finally told her, little by little, what he had seen. The new born, the Man with Thranduil's coin flipping in the air, Wolf's black spear. None of it made any sense.

"Thranduil, foresightedness is a heavy burden to bear. My advice for you will be not to try to make a decision in hopes of changing the future. Oftentimes the decision that you take in the last minute is usually the decision that brings about the destruction you were hoping to avoid."

Every day, for a few seconds, Maglor's videos came into action. They were different than the ones before. There were videos of him walking about in Redwood, of the island with Maglor's song singing the haunting tunes of Noldolantë.

Then there was only one other than that worried him, burdened him.

"You go back to Tol Antanë and speak to Riley," Arodien said to him after cornering him one night in their tent.

"Armes-"

"There is less than a year left to finish the construction of our city. You might as well begin the final stages with a clean slate." Arodien said, pressing her hands on his chest. "It will make you feel better. And it will take away your guilt."

"He wasn't ready to speak to me back then. Why would he be ready to speak to me now?"

"Because you are different now," Arodien answered simply. He smiled and pressed his forehead against hers. Then he felt this tug in their bond and he chuckled.

"Let me go?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to… flirt."

"Right."

"Honest!"

"You were never a good liar."

"My lord!" Thranduil pulled apart immediately. Detaching himself, he walked up to the tent flap and lifted it. Mithon stood there.

"What is it?"

"This has arrived for you."

Thranduil looked down at the long box and felt a feeling of dread rise in him. It looked similar to the ones Wolf used to gift his spears to. But the box was in colours of red and black and it was not as long as it should be to hold a spear. He lifted the lid and looked.

Andúril's hilt shone in the fading light of the sky. The scabbard, though old, still looked durable and when Thranduil pulled out the blade, he saw there were no nicks or cracks anywhere. It was safely kept. In the box, he found one card in it.

_It was placed under my care by Ladies Életh and Arodis before Grey Havens was attacked. Now I have done my job and bring it to you. Katarina._

"Find a suitable place to keep it." Thranduil said. Then he thought of Kate and murmured, "There is going to be someone else using this sword."

oOo

_Tol Antanë,_

_Pacific Ocean,_

"Take it slowly," Maedhros advised. Then he turned on his heel and left him behind to speak to Riley.

The stone garden was devoid of plants, with coloured pebbles forming beautiful patterns on the ground. Pavilions were placed facing such patterns, and it was in one such pavilion that he found Riley.

Riley had changed. There were new frown lines on his forehead and his face had now a mask of sorrow instead of that fresh grief Thranduil had left him with months back. His hands were limp in his lap but Thranduil noticed that the Man had definitely not been idle in his time here on the island. He was much fitter than before. It relieved Thranduil, because that meant Riley did not wallow in his despair.

As if feeling someone's eyes, Riley looked up and the two former detectives looked at one another. Riley got up as if in a trance and slowly walked up to him.

Riley studied him carefully and then swung his fist at him.

Thranduil staggered to the floor, gripping his jaw. Then he inhaled as he straightened. He looked at Riley and then swung his fist at him, hitting Riley squarely on the nose. Thranduil didn't think he broke it, but he definitely bloodied it.

"What was that for?" Riley's voice sounded strangely comical now that his nose was stuffed with blood.

"For not listening to me when I tried to explain myself," Thranduil said. His jaw hurt. He felt something warm trickle to his fingers and knew he had a bloody lip. The pair shifted to the benches and sat quietly as they nursed their wounds.

"If you want to shout at me then tell me beforehand," Thranduil said finally. "I will leave without a word."

Riley did not reply for so long that Thranduil thought he was not going to reply at all.

"Stay." Riley said finally.

They sat side by side, enjoying the cool air coming from the oceans. The garden was quiet, without even the sounds of birds to entertain them. It was serene, soothing.

"Tell me everything." Riley finally said.

"It is a long story."

"I got time."

"Where do you want me to begin?"

"Tell me everything you told Cassie."

"You heard what I told her."

"Yeah. She told me. But this time, I wanna hear it from you."

Thranduil took in a deep breath and began to tell him everything, though in a much brief version. After he finished, Riley was still sitting as still as a statue as he had been throughout the time Thranduil had spoken.

"So," Thranduil had to say something, anything, to get this intense, stifling blanket of awkwardness off of him. "How are you feeling?" Riley made a sound of disbelief.

"How am I feeling?" Riley repeated. "I have this intense burning hatred inside me, Lee." Riley looked down at his lap. "It is eating me from inside, ya know. I wanted to hurt you so bad. If you stayed any longer in the room with me all those months back, I swear I might even have tried to kill you."

"What changed?"

"I saw the interview." Riley said. Thranduil grimaced.

"That changed your mind? Not your wife or anyone else?"

"Well you gotta understand. I didn't know what to believe." Riley looked up and stared at him right in the eye. "But I knew you were a private Man- Elf," Riley frowned as he corrected himself. "You are not really the type to go out there and speak out. So something about that interview, the way you were so uncomfortable and awkward in that setting, finally convinced me."

Silence fell between them.

"I miss her," Thranduil said. "I cannot imagine what it must be like for you. All of this must seem really insane."

"It was insane," Riley said, scratching his forehead. "It was really insane." This time when silence fell, it was less awkward than the first. "The boys want to be trained in combat. Said they wanted to join the army."

"And you disapprove?"

"There are freaking dragons out there, Lee, Thranduil, whatever."

"Call me what you are comfortable with." Thranduil said, smiling.

"Well, the name I have for you in mind is jackass, but that wouldn't do."

"No," Thranduil said, chuckling. "It won't."

"I want my boys to be ready for what is out there. Something tells me they will be old enough to take part in the war when it comes… just as I will."

"I hear you have been taking part in learning some combat skills yourself."

"Yeah, well. What happened to my little girl… I do not ever want any of my family go through that ever again."

"I still call you a friend, Riley."

"I know." There was a pause. "Maybe someday, I might come close to call you the same as well."

When silence fell, it was more companionable than before.

* * *

><p><strong>End of Part 1 of Tempest: Stronghold<strong>

**Part 2 starts in the next chapter.**

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Apologies once again to everyone who is reviewing this that I am unable to answer. Life is pretty hectic, both in my studies as well as in personal life. I experienced a loss in the family so things are a bit rushed around here. I think it came into the chapter. And for that I also apologize.

This chapter is a bit rushed. So I might come back to tweak it at the ends a bit.

I am going to apologize for the next few chapters, because you guys might try to kill me.

*hides in blankie*

**Concepts:**

**Dagor Dagorath: **I do not know if I have explained this earlier. I think I forgot. When Tolkien said Battle of Battles, I wanted it to be all forms of battle. Cold war, political battle, nuclear battle, cyber war and so on. I want it to be on all fronts. If Tolkien called it the Battle of Battles, then it has to be something huge and tremendous.

**Allies and Foes: **I do not entertain the concept of all people being bad or all people being good in real life. So no, I think I rubbed off Maglor's statements the wrong way to the Americans. Please note that this story does not reflect on the current situations. It draws from it but it does not become it. Maglor's reasoning is explained in the next topic.

**Maglor: **No, in my point of view, Maglor is not a jerk. He hasn't spent much time with Thranduil and the only part of Maglor that he has seen is the part of him being biased about America. Maglor, staying true to the name Kanafinwe or the Commanding Finwe, would think like a strategist, meaning he will see if he could turn things to his advantage. That is what he is doing. He is looking for an advantage for them.

**Jason: **Cancer is possible to spread in the family due to genetics. Stage 4 cancer is very difficult to treat and the person may have a few days to a few months to live, depending upon the type of cancer.

**Japan: **Yeah, this stemmed from some history lessons. Due to Hiroshima and Nagasaki (and my intense interest in Japanese history relating to Samurai age), I simply had to turn them towards the Allies.


End file.
